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Instead of Arya, I prefer her mom (Eragon)

Reincarnated in the world of Alagaësia, Cedric Merlinson wants nothing more than to follow his namesake's example—by becoming the greatest wizard who ever lived. As far as the big bad was concerned, he couldn't care less. Power-gaming was the name of the game, and he wouldn't let anything get in the way of that. Unfortunately for him, the road to unlimited power wouldn't be without its hurdles...

f0Ri5 · Livres et littérature
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39 Chs

Chapter 33

'…what is this?'

Saphira communicated a mix of confusion and fascination, analyzing the half-dragon female. To her, it was beyond foreign, something she never could've imagined.

Cedric found her reaction amusing, though he wasn't surprised. On earth it was a common fictional trope, but entirely outlandish here. Who'd think of having dragons shapeshift? Perhaps the elves, if they didn't consider it blasphemous. The dragons themselves wouldn't, given their superiority-complex toward other races.

'If you assumed a similar form, walking among us wouldn't be impossible.'

Saphira barely registered his words, absorbed with what she saw. She extended a claw, or the gesture's mental equivalent, wanting to make a copy for herself.

Cedric obliged. However, he made a few changes before allowing her to do so. It wasn't anything lewd, lest he be misunderstood. Rather, he felt the half-dragon body should be fully functioning.

Eventually, Saphira regained enough mindfulness to pick out flaws.

'If such a thing were possible, it wouldn't go unnoticed among humans.'

'You'd prefer a normal human female, then?'

'…'

'I didn't think so.'

Cedric conveyed his amusement. Saphira was too in-love with her draconic features. She wasn't willing to go without them.

'How will you accomplish this? Discussion is moot otherwise.'

'I'm not capable of it. Aren't you?'

Saphira's attitude toward his question was disbelief.

'Why would I be?'

'I have it on good authority that, if a dragon feels strongly about accomplishing something, their magic will make it so.'

Cedric spoke confidently, recalling the dragons' feats in the books, including Saphira's own.

There was a long pause as she seemingly considered it. However, her final answer was negative.

'…dragons might be capable of achieving the impossible, but not this. It can't be done.'

Cedric was disappointed, but not overmuch. Saphira's mental maturity and physical appearance might suggest otherwise, but she was still a hatchling. There was room for growth

'Don't be hasty. You know little about your own physiology, let alone a human's. I will help where I can.'

Hearing this, Saphira's mood lifted a little. She hid it well, but Cedric didn't miss her getting her hopes up. She was beyond fed up with sitting around uselessly. However, that was only surface-level.

As far as Saphira knew, the deranged Shruikan was the only living dragon aside from herself, while the remaining eggs' fate was unknown. Perhaps they were already destroyed, corrupted or incapable of hatching. Were that not the case, she, a newly-hatched dragon, had little hope of recovering them.

Being capable of integrating with human or elven society provided a sense of security. It was a lifeline if she ended up being the last of her race.

Deducing as much from her emotions, Cedric felt uncharacteristic pity. If he were the last remaining human…

Well, thinking it over… it wouldn't really bother him. However, he wasn't newly born into a foreign world like her-… wait, he was, wasn't he?

Cedric suddenly wondered why he felt sorry for her. He'd have killed to be a dragon, even with her difficulties!

Saphira wasn't privy to his thoughts, but she roughly sensed his conundrum.

'Don't pity me, Cedric. It doesn't suit you. I would not be anything other than a dragon.'

Cedric found himself smiling, though he didn't say anything. Saphira too seemed content to sit in silence.

Eventually, the dragon reached some sort of resolution. She brought the conversation back to its original purpose.

'…then, you will not tell me where the elf is being kept?'

Cedric shook his head internally.

'No. I won't have you self-destructing out of some misplaced sense of gratitude. Until you can meaningfully assist me, don't get near that place.'

'I'm surprised. You almost seem concerned.'

'Well, if you die or get captured, I'd have trouble getting the materials I need.'

'…'

'That was a joke, don't take it the wrong way.'

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It was a long while before their conversation ended. Cedric thought Saphira was rather lonely. Toward the end, he sensed her reluctance. She was like someone dragging on a phone-call, not wanting to hang up.

He sighed, pushing back his chair. He wasn't entirely against rescuing Arya. Saphira's reward tempted him, but having the elves' gratitude would be equally beneficial. It could serve as a get-out-of-jail-free card if he ever got on their bad side. Moreover, if he played his cards right, he might even get into Du Weldenvarden…

Exiting his 'study', he found the underground tunnels dark and empty. Silver was nowhere to be seen, attending some matter or another. Though, Cedric cared little what his four remaining servants did, as long as they came when he called.

He made his way through the tunnels, heading for the warehouse. Cedric kept many experiments there, including the 'homunculus'. Calling it such was a tad pretentious—the creature was entirely an experimental canvas for testing ideas. Already, it neared the end of its unnatural lifespan. When the time came, sending it on a suicide mission might be prudent…

Eventually, he reached a narrow hallway, lit by a single torch. It was ensconced next to a rickety wooden door, small enough that most adults would be ducking through it. Though his fourteenth birthday came and went, Cedric had no such problems.

It opened into a closet, bolted on the inside. Unfastening it, Cedric found himself in a large, mostly empty room. His eyes flicked left to right, spotting a familiar figure.

"Suffisticuts."

The 'boy', no less than four years Cedric's senior, jumped like a startled cat.

"M-master warlock…!"

Crouching defensively, he clutched a wooden blackjack, embedded with sharpened metal spikes. Their brownish-red color was from rust, blood or both. As usual, he was keeping an eye on the 'experiments'.

If asked which Suffisticuts feared more- the monsters behind the iron-banded door, or his boyish, fresh-faced master - he'd surely pick the latter. As things stood, the gaze he directed at Cedric was less like looking at a teenage boy and more like a demon from hell.

Cedric didn't care about his attitude, unlocking and opening the secured door.

"Grab the surgical equipment. Don't forget the tinctures and syringes."

Without waiting for a reply, he entered the dark, humid room. Inside, heavy, regular breathing sounded, an enormous, shadowed figure looming at the far end, chained to the wall.

Suffisticuts swallowed. For a brief moment, his eyes flicked from the unlatched door to Cedric's back. He seriously contemplated slamming it shut and locking the two monsters in with each other. Perhaps, if he was lucky, they'd tear each other apart.

However, his fear got the better of him. Lowering his head, he grabbed the tools, scuttling after Cedric.

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The next day in early-morning, Eragon and Brom were in Jeod's study. Being a merchant, the man himself was already out and about, attending to business.

"…can we really continue staying here?"

Eragon raised his head, speaking uncertainly. He was pouring over a book, trying and failing to make sense of its contents. Though Brom provided assistance, a few days weren't enough to gain much proficiency.

The old man didn't look up from his own tome.

"Jeod owes me this much, at least."

"But his wife, Helen-…"

"He assured me she won't be a problem."

Eragon frowned. He felt it would be better to room at an inn or similar, though perhaps money was a concern. How long did Brom plan on staying, anyway?

The young rider tried getting an answer, but little was forthcoming. At this point, he'd nearly grown used to being denied even the most basic information. If it wasn't for his regular venting to Saphira, he might've already gone crazy.

"We can't stay here forever. What about Saphira? Is she to remain outside Teirm's borders indefinitely, waiting for us?'

Brom idly turned the pages.

"Of course not. Just be patient and focus on your studies for now."

Eragon didn't quite manage to supress his irritation.

"You aren't being honest with me. Don't think I'm unaware of your private discussions with Jeod. If any of it concerns me, then I deserve to know what you're planning!"

Brom sighed, setting his book down before looking at Eragon.

"I apologize if it seems unreasonable to you, but understand your position. I would've preferred otherwise, but it's become impossible for you to avoid conflict with the empire-…"

"I already know that!"

The interruption sparked anger behind Brom's eyes.

"Let me finish! You already know we're affiliated with the Varden-…"

Eragon crossed his arms, staring petulantly out the window.

"Only because Cedric told me!"

"ERAGON!"

The atmosphere was electric as Brom's eyes bored holes in his son. His anger wasn't simply from Eragon talking over him. Instead, the name 'Cedric' had become something of a taboo word lately.

"…do not interrupt me again. What I say, I say for your own good. A meeting with the Varden is inevitable, but you're not ready. The organization isn't monolithic. There are forces who'd use you for their own gain."

Brom paused, waiting to see if Eragon would meet his eyes. When it didn't happen, he sighed.

"Take advantage of this tranquillity to improve yourself. Such times are rare enough for ordinary people. Doubly so for dragon riders."

He was about to resume his own reading when Eragon spoke unhappily.

"You've talked and talked, yet you said little. How long are we staying? What are you and Jeod planning? And what of Saphira? And the elven woman from my dreams-…"

"Elven woman? How do you know she's an elf?"

Brom spoke sternly, not missing that tidbit. Until now, Eragon never assumed she was anything other than human.

"…"

"You scried her, didn't you? Damn it, Eragon, how could you be so irresponsible? I told you repeatedly never to scry something you hadn't seen in real life-…"

Eragon turned in his chair, shooting a furious look toward Brom.

"Whoever she is, she needs our help! And you, you knew she was an elf! I suspect you even know who she is! How can I care about my safety, sitting around and whiling away my time with a bunch of books when people's lives are at stake?!"

Brom clenched his jaw, his face scrunching in anger.

"Do you take me for a fool? You think I'm ignorant of the situation? We can't rescue her just because we want to, Eragon! Do you even know where she's being kept? I know you don't! And if you did, how would you save her-…?"

It seemed he was about to continue his rant, but realizing it was a delicate topic and lacking privacy, Brom shut his mouth.

"Let's not discuss this now. It isn't the time, nor the place. Know that the issue weighs heavily on my mind and be satisfied with that."

Eragon wasn't, but given little choice, he swallowed his complaints. However, he didn't know how much patience he had left in him.

When the day was done, he'd leave the city and pay Saphira a visit. He felt he needed the respite.

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When the sun hung low in the sky, a cloaked and hooded figure crouched next to a dragon. They were in a grassy depreciation, shrouded by a blanket of low-hanging mist.

The coastal environment, while not entirely lacking forestation, was more sparse than inland. Fortunately, the weather made it possible for Saphira to conceal herself, being more than a dozen miles away from Teirm.

"So… this is where you usually hang out. Not bad, I guess?"

Lowering his hood and exposing a head of curly, coppery hair, Cedric looked around. There really wasn't much to see.

'No, this is not where I 'hang out'. I nest at the top of a sheer cliff, some distance from here. Humans are unable to spot me from the ground.'

As Cedric hummed his understanding, a chilly wind sprung up. Given the late hour, he found himself feeling the cold.

However, Saphira was considerate, moving to obstruct it with her body. In a week-and-a-half, she'd grown even more. Already, she was far bigger than any animal, nearing the size of a proper dragon.

"Thanks. Anyway, I thought it'd be easier to talk in person. I brought a few sketches with me as well. They should help you with-…"

Getting to the point, Cedric started with their plan, but before getting very far, Saphira interrupted him.

'Wait, Eragon is coming.'

His mouth still open, Cedric's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

'Didn't you say we'd have some privacy? I wouldn't have come if I knew you already had plans.'

Saphira shook her head while baring teeth. Despite her inhuman features, her amusement was obvious.

'He didn't let me know beforehand. You two haven't seen each other in a while, if I understand correctly. Shouldn't you look forward to speaking with your friend?'

"Haha, very funny. I have no qualms with Eragon – I even somewhat admire his heroic tendencies – but you know as well as I this is better kept between the two of us."

Saphira snorted.

'Well, decide what you wish to do. He is fast approaching. Leave, stay and speak with him, or… hide until he leaves.'

Cedric's lip twitched. Did he sense a strange excitement from her toward the end, or was it his imagination?

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