Chapter 18: A Plan Unfolds

[2,720 words]

Eragon sat across from Brom, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. His mind raced with the memory of Arya's tortured expression, the haunted look in her eyes as she endured torment under Durza's hand.

He wasn't just disturbed by the cruelty of the Shade; it had hit him in a way he hadn't expected. It was one thing to read about such horrors in a book, but to witness it through the lens of a vision—to feel the despair and pain firsthand—was an entirely different reality. It made him angry, and that fueled something else in him.

His thoughts drifted, his jaw tightening as he considered the weight of the situation. Saving Arya wasn't just about rescuing a stranger from torment. It was a potential opportunity—a chance to get into the elves' good graces, particularly Queen Islanzadí. If they truly manag to rescue Arya, then her rescue would be a gift that the elven queen would not easily forget.

And Eragon needed powerful allies. If he could get on Islanzadí's good side, have her indebted to him for saving her daughter, it could mean influence, prestige, and even some opportunities. That was also what partially drove him.

He wasn't naive enough to think that saving Arya was an entirely selfless act. He was driven by his desire to stand out, to be admired, even revered. He wanted to be seen as a hero, but not just for the sake of it. He craved the rewards that came with being a hero—fame, fortune, and eventually, the admiration of the powerful. What better way to secure a future among the elves than to save their precious princess?

And yet, as much as he hated to admit it, the image of Arya's suffering wouldn't leave his mind. The Shade's cruelty had been horrifyingly real, and knowing she was still enduring that pain, trapped in Gil'ead, twisted something inside him. He wasn't soft-hearted, but watching someone suffer like that—it unsettled him deeply.

The room was dim, lit only by a flickering candle on the worn wooden table between them. Shadows danced across the walls, casting long shapes that seemed to mirror the heavy tension in the air. Saphira, curled in her hiding place outside the city, though Eragon could feel her concern through their bond.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled after he recounted his vision to Brom. "We can't leave Arya there," Eragon began, his voice steady but underpinned with an urgency that matched the thudding of his heart. "Saphira and I both agree—we have to save her."

Brom's expression was unreadable, his eyes shadowed beneath his thick brows. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered Eragon's words. There was a long pause as he weighed the situation, his gaze drifting momentarily to the floor.

Finally, Brom sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "A new vision, you say. Hm... I had suspected you might have this ability, given how you found out about me. But Eragon, even if what you saw is real and Arya is truly alive, what you're suggesting is dangerous—far too dangerous. We're talking about a going up against a Shade inside a heavily fortified city! They're not a force we can face alone. This vision of yours... it could even be his trap meant to lure you out."

Eragon's brow furrowed in frustration. "A trap? How could it be a trap if no one even knows Saphira hatched for me? As far as anyone knows, the egg is still missing. How could they set a trap for a Rider they don't even know exists?"

Brom's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a grave tone. "Never underestimate a Shade, Eragon. Their means are mysterious, unpredictable, and often more cunning than we give them credit for. Even if you think you're hidden, there are ways they can sniff you out. Your reasoning may be sound, but there's still too much risk involved. We can't afford to walk blindly into a situation that could get us both killed—or worse."

Eragon leaned forward, his eyes ablaze with conviction. "I know it's dangerous, but I don't think this is a trap. I've had visions before, I know how they feel. Those visions back then were real, not some ploy. This feels the same. I trust it, and if my visions have been true before, then Arya really is getting tortured as we speak. We have to act now before it's too late!"

Brom's face twisted with frustration as he stood up and began pacing the room, his steps heavy with the weight of the decision he was grappling with. "Eragon, you're not ready for a Shade, not by a long shot. The kind of power Durza wields isn't something you can simply overcome with brute strength or a few spells. You still have much to learn—about magic, about combat, about yourself. You need to be patient. Train, build your strength, and hone your skills. In a few years, I promise you, you'll be ready to face someone like Durza. You are the most talented person I have came across, but right now... rushing into this would be suicide."

Eragon met Brom's gaze with a determined glint in his eyes, his tone defiant. "You underestimate me, Brom. I'm stronger than you think. The training I've done, the magic you have taught me, it's not just at a surface-level as you seem to believe. I'm already more powerful than you realize."

Just as Eragon finished speaking, Saphira's voice reverberated through Brom's mind, calm yet firm, like the rumble of distant thunder. 'Brom,' she began, 'you underestimate us. Eragon and I are not children, stumbling blindly in the dark. We have trained hard for this—more than you know. Together, we are stronger than you think. I understand your caution, but the time has come for us to act. Durza may be powerful, but we are ready to face him. We will not be reckless, but neither will we stand idly by while Arya suffers.'

Brom's voice grew sharper, his frustration evident. "Be that as it may, I know Arya, If she knew you two were planning to risk your lives—no, the lives of the sole free dragon and her rider—to save her, she would be the first to argue against it. Arya would not want you to risk yourselfs for her, even if it means she will die!"

Eragon paused, staring at the floor for a moment before meeting Brom's eyes. His voice was quieter now, but no less resolute. "It doesn't matter what Arya thinks or wants. What matters is what Alagaësia needs. And Alagaësia needs Arya alive! Arya must return to the elves safe and sound"

Brom looked confused now, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward slightly. "Alagaësia needs Arya alive? What are on about, Eragon?"

Eragon took a deep look at Brom as he began to bullshit with a straight face. "I listened carefully when you and Jeod talked, Brom. And I came to two conclusions, that if put together give a all new picture."

Folding his fingers together and putting them under his chin, he continued "Throughout your conversation, you only mentioned Arya by name several times, but for the others—the ones who were with her—you just called them 'her guards.' This tells me she was the leader of the group responsible for Saphira's egg, and the rest are just extras. And by your repeated questions about her situation and fate, I can also know she is either your friend, or someone important. Maybe even both..."

Brom's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing, his expression neutral as Eragon continued.

"Secondly, The elves' behavior after Arya and her guards were ambushed doesn't make sense if you think about it logically," Eragon said. "If they just lost a few elves and the egg, the rational course of action would have been to send more forces to help the Varden, find the spy who betrayed them, and take the egg back from Galbatorix. But they didn't do that, instead, they retreated and closed up their borders, no longer sending help or respond to massages, cutting off the supplies they used to provide to their allies, the Varden. It's as if... they were grieving. But what could be the reason for that? Can the death of 3 elves and the loss of a dragon egg really cause all that? I think not..."

Eragon's eyes narrowed as he delivered his conclusion. "However, if you put the two parts together, they give the only explanation for their withdrawal from the world and their reluctance to send aid to the Varden. Arya is the key. After she was deemed dead, the elves retreated. So she must be important to someone high up in the elven hierarchy, someone powerful enough to influence their entire strategy."

Brom's face went slack for a moment, his eyes widening as he stared at Eragon in shock. Saphira, though not present, was similarly stunned, Eragon could feel it through their bond.

Brom's mind raced as he realized how astute Eragon had become, how observant and analytical. 'The boy has figured out almost everything,' Brom thought, his admiration growing despite himself. 'He's not just smart, but sharp—dangerously sharp for someone his age.'

Eragon leaned back, a glint of triumph in his eyes as he watched Brom's expression shift. The older man's stunned silence was all the confirmation he needed to press on. Eragon allowed himself a small, victorious smile, savoring the moment. "Judging by your expression, I must be right," he said, his voice brimming with quiet confidence. He locked eyes with Brom, his tone becoming more deliberate. "If we want the elves to stand with us again—if we want their strength against Galbatorix—we need to rescue Arya and bring her back to them. Alive."

Eragon paused, leaning forward slightly as if to emphasize the weight of his words. "And think about it. What do you suppose the elves—or more importantly, whoever holds Arya dear—will do when they learn we had the opportunity to save Arya and we let it pass by?... All because we were afraid of the danger, without even trying..."

Brom stiffened, visibly unsettled. Eragon's words had hit home, and the depth of the implications was clearly sinking in.

He suddenly felt a cold shiver run down his spine. 'The brat is right,' he thought, his heart sinking with the realization. 'If Islanzadí ever finds out I let her daughter die and not even tried to save Arya... she would skin me alive! Even teacher won't be able to save me if she gets vengeful and wants her pound of flesh.'

Brom gave Eragon a withering glare, his mind now racing with the implications. 'Stinky brat! You and your damn visions have gotten me into trouble...' he thought bitterly. 'Now, I have no choice but to do everything in my power to save Arya.'

Brom sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hands in exasperation. "Fine, you win." he muttered, his tone resigned but tinged with annoyance. "We'll go to Gil'ead at once and try to save Arya."

Eragon's face lit up with satisfaction, but Brom wasn't done. His expression grew serious again as he looked Eragon in the eye. "But understand this, Eragon," Brom warned, his tone dark. "Angering the elves or not, if I deem this rescue mission too dangerous—if the odds are too heavily stacked against us—we will abort immediately. Agreed?"

Eragon smirked, feeling a surge of confidence. He had known that Brom would eventually see reason, and now that he had won him over, he felt even more sure of their success. "Actually," Eragon said, his voice casual but laced with excitement. "I've already thought of a plan to save Arya without taking too high a risk."

Brom raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Oh? So you do know that rushing headfirst into danger won't do anyone any good?" he asked, a skeptical edge to his voice. "Let's hear it then. What's your plan?"

'Let's see if the brat can actually strategize too,' Brom thought as he crossed his arms again, waiting for Eragon's response.

Eragon leaned forward, a confident glint in his eye, ready to share his plan. As he unraveled it step by step, Brom and Saphira's expressions shifted from intrigued to outright disbelief. Each detail made Brom's frown deepen, while Saphira's mind hummed with growing concern. By the time Eragon finished, Brom's patience had worn thin.

"Moron!" Brom shot up from his seat, his face flushed with anger. "Haven't you learned anything these past few months? Low key is the way to survive, not this... this madness! You're practically painting a target on your back for Durza and Galbatorix to take aim at!"

Eragon met Brom's outburst with calm defiance. "Oh? Then do you have a better plan to neutralize the Shade? I'm all ears. Go on. Just remember, sneaking in silently won't work, Durza will most probably stay next to Arya's cell at all times."

Brom's face reddened further as he began pacing furiously around the room, muttering to himself, his mind racing to find alternatives. His eyes darted everywhere but Eragon, clearly frustrated by the lack of an immediate solution. Finally, he stopped, turning to face Eragon once more, his eyes narrowed. "Fine, let's say you do follow your plan and you get Arya out. Then what? They'll be after us with everything they've got. Are you planning on taking on an entire army?"

Eragon chuckled, leaning back with ease. "As thrilling as that sounds, no. Arya will likely be injured, perhaps worse than we can imagine after the Shade's torture. She'll need immediate care. After we rescue her, we'll retreat to Du Weldenvarden forest and let the elves help her. I doubt even Durza would be foolish enough to chase us into their forest. No matter how powerful he is, he wouldn't dare."

Brom folded his arms, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "And how, exactly, do you plan on finding the elves in that massive forest? You could wander for months and not catch sight of a single elf if your luck is bad."

Eragon furrowed his brows, slightly thrown off by the question. "Isn't that why you're here? Surely you know the way. You must have been there before—you can lead us."

Brom sighed dramatically, spreading his hands with a helpless expression that did nothing to mask the hint of amusement behind his eyes. "If only it were that simple. Unfortunately, I swore an oath in the Ancient Language decades ago never to reveal or lead anyone to the elves' cities. I can't break that vow, Eragon. Even if it's you and Saphira, my hands are tied."

Eragon's eyes darkened for a moment, giving Brom a mental middle finger. He quickly shook off the irritation and responded, his voice calm but firm, "Then that leaves us with only one option. We will head for the Varden. We'll cross the Hadarac Desert and make our way to the Beor Mountains. The Varden and dwarfs will offer protection for sure, and they can help Arya."

His lips then curled into a faint, mocking smile as he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If we're heading to the Varden, you can lead us there at least, right?" The question hung in the air, more of a playful jab than a challenge.

Brom's face remained tense, hesitating. 'The Varden does seem to be the only choice left for us, however, what of the spy?...'

But Brom could see the determination in Eragon's eyes. It was clear that no amount of warnings or arguments would sway the young Rider from his course. With a heavy sigh, he said nothing, waiting for the inevitable adventure to unfold. 'What is to come will come...'

---

[Pain Resistance Level 164]

[Radiation Resistance Level 190]

[Fatigue Resistance Level 211]

[Abrasion Resistance Level 150]

[Heat Resistance Level 178]

[Blunt Force Resistance Level 118]

[Oxygen Deprivation Resistance Level 87]

[Vertigo Resistance Level 78]

[Irritant Resistance Level 23]

[Cold Resistance Level 152]

[Poison Resistance Level 45]

[Sleep Deprivation Resistance Level 157]

[Alcohol Resistance Level 12]

[Cut Resistance Level 56]

[Hunger Resistance Level 74]

[Pressure Resistance Level 21]

[Dehydration Resistance Level 75]

[Sickness Resistance Level 21]

[Virus Resistance Level 3]

[Sensory Overload Resistance Level 54]

[Magic Resistance Level 91]

[Mental Invasion Resistance Level 78]