Instead of Arya, I prefer her mom (Chapter 24) (Patreon)

That next morning, when Cedric crawled out of the stump, he almost had a heart-attack from surprise. The first thing he saw was an enormous, azure-scaled reptilian head with silvery, mirror-like eyes.

It stared down at him condescendingly.

“What the hell! Why are you here?”

‘They are getting ready to leave, yet you have not appeared. I suspected you overslept, and it seems I was correct. Come, I will have you return with me.’

Cedric was almost getting used to her dumbfounding him. Since when were dragons so cavalier about letting people ride them? He couldn’t imagine her volunteering for this—Eragon must’ve asked her.

However, soon as he had the thought, Saphira’s emotions flickered strangely. There was a sliver of some complex sensation, one she smothered before Cedric could identify it.

‘I will not let you fall.’

Her reassurance made him feel even stranger. Their deal was one thing, but climbing on her back…? Somehow, it felt like she was cheating on Eragon with him.

Saphira didn’t say anything, waiting impatiently for him to decide. At least, he judged so from her body-language—her emotions were closed off. That fact only added to his suspicions.

“…all right.”

Eventually, he decided he might as well. Despite himself, he found the idea exciting—not cheating on Eragon-… well, truthfully that did seem a little fun, but dragon-riding in particular. Who wouldn’t?

Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he made his way over to her. He’d never been this close to Saphira—it was a little awkward to be honest. Extending a hand, he carefully laid a hand on her shoulder, feeling her smooth scales under his palm. The sensation was similar to that of a polished sea-shell, or a pearl.

Absentmindedly, Cedric trailed his fingers downward, taking care not to hurt himself. Though Saphira’s scales laid flush against her body, the edges were wickedly sharp.

Suddenly, she shook off his hand, her thoughts battering against his.

‘Enough of this! We can’t dally all day—ride me or do not!’

Cedric’s lips twitched. He didn’t know why, but her words took his head to a weird place. He’d never thought of himself as having any strange interests-…

Before his thoughts could finish, Saphira’s neck whipped around. Opening her maw, she revealing a mouthful of long, serrated white teeth before snapping angrily at him.

The young mage felt a rush of embarrassment and irritation, clenching his jaw while his cheeks turned red.

‘Damn you, don’t do that! You’re only making it worse!’

Forcefully subduing his strange thoughts, he jumped onto her back, strapping himself in as he’d seen Eragon do before. Saphira let him, but not without a certain amount of skittish, wildness. It was an animalistic side of her he hadn’t seen before.

Walling off his own mind, Cedric wondered inwardly if he had some secret, repressed fetishes. At no point in his past life did he experience anything similar—he didn’t even have any kinks! What was going on?

When Saphira took off, he barely noticed, suddenly engaged in a bout of intense introspection. He never held much expectation for this new life of his, content to pursue whatever goal his mind conjured up.

As far as, well… ‘romance’ went, he was certainly curious about those famously beautiful elven maidens, but it was no more than an idle curiosity. He would let the cookie crumble as it willed.

However, he certainly never imagined any dragons would be involved! Yet, now that he had, it was difficult to stop his mind from going down one very long, very odd rabbit hole…

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Daret was on the banks of the Ninor river. The village was small and seemingly primitive, with no habitants in sight. After what happened, this boded ill for Eragon and Brom, though Cedric wasn’t worried.

Saphira hiding close by in case of trouble, the two boys and one senior approached the town cautiously. The horses were tied a short distance away, close enough to mount and ride in case things went south.

Eragon and Brom’s unease only increased as they entered the town, finding it empty. The only signs of people were fresh footprints in the muddy streets.

“Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this, not one bit.”

The old storyteller understandably got cold feet, calling for a retreat. However, before they could take so much as a single step, wagons suddenly appeared from behind houses, blocking the road. A big man leapt down from one, a broadsword hanging at his side.

“You’re surrounded by sixty arches. Move, and they’ll shoot!”

Brom and Eragon froze, both in the process of drawing their own swords. The latter’s expression also showed a hint of panic—Cedric knew he was communicating with Saphira, warning her not to approach.

Though the ex-rider was caught of guard, at least on the surface, he quickly regained his composure.

“What do you want?”

The swarthy man looked at each of them in turn before answering Brom’s question.

“Why have you come here?”

“To resupply and hear the news. Nothing more.”

The man didn’t seem convinced.

“You’re armed rather heavily.”

“These are dangerous times. No such thing as being too careful.”

There was a period of tense silence, the robust fellow seeming like he was about to give the command, shooting them down just in case. Evidently, he decided against it.

“We’ve had too many encounters with bandits and urgals for me to trust you… If you only want supplies, then agree to stay here while we bring what you need. Afterwards, pay us and leave immediately.”

Finding the terms satisfactory, Brom agreed.

Despite knowing things would turn out this way, Cedric felt his body unconsciously relax. They weren’t in any real danger, but having sixty bows pointed at him was hardly pleasant.

One of the archers came down from a rooftop, trodding over to their group of three. When Brom finished with their grocery list, the fellow nodded and ran off, disappearing between the houses.

“Name’s Trevor. Where’re you three from?”

“North. You said urgal attacks forced you to take such measures?”

“Hmm… and worse fiends. Any news from the surrounding towns? We’ve been cut off for a few days.”

Brom nodded, his expression sober.

“Bad news, yes. A fortnight ago we passed through Yazuac, but it was completely pillaged—corpses as far as the eye could see…”

While they conversed, Cedric glanced at Eragon, seeing him still tense. His hand was on Za’roc’s handle, and it seemed he was ready to fight or flee at any time. He patted the young rider’s shoulder reassuringly.

Within fifteen minutes, they were on their way out. It seemed a rather irrelevant interaction, but not to Cedric—this could be considered his first successful ‘task’, bringing Eragon back alive. He would ensure Saphira understood as much.

When they’d found the horses, heading back to the dragon’s hiding place, Brom broke the silence. Though his eyes briefly met Cedric’s, it was clear he’d spoken to Eragon.

“Did you use your abilities?”

The boy looked at him, baffled.

“What do you mean? There was no reason to.”

Brom shook his head.

“You could’ve discovered Trevor’s purpose, same as communicating with Saphira or the horses. I’m not suggesting you meddle with his mind—simply observing. It is indeed a power that should be used with great caution and restraint. The riders had very strict rules regarding this. If disobeyed, the punishment would be severe…”

This time, it was clear who the words were intended for, but Cedric was entirely unbothered. It was very much like Brom, to lecture and reprimand in the same sentence.

Eragon bit his lip, his expression growing taut. Clearly, he didn’t like the idea of violating man’s last sanctuary.

“…if I can get into someone’s head, doesn’t that mean the same could happen to me? How do I know if my mind has been breached?”

Brom went on to explain how to telepathically defend yourself, but Cedric only listened with half an ear. He was very adept at the practice—saying so was no boast. He was nearly certain the old rider would stand no chance against him, not diminished as he was.

Though, that knowledge gave him no pleasure: he would’ve liked to have a mental sparring partner. Unfortunately, only Saphira qualified, and he wasn’t sure whether she’d agree, or how to keep something like that a secret…

“It’s decided, then. Tonight, you two will start your training. It was lax of me to postpone it for so long, but other issues occupied my attention.”

Brom’s words returned Cedric to the present. Registering what the old storyteller meant, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Not only would Eragon stand no chance against him, he almost couldn’t believe Brom risking his son’s safety in such a way.

After what Cedric did back in Carvahall, wasn’t he worried something would happen?

“Hmph. Don’t get too cocky—Saphira will naturally join Eragon’s side, as long as she agrees. And don’t talk to me about fairness: in actual battle, a rider and their dragon would always work together.”

Brom sent Cedric a look before flicking his reigns, spurring Snowfire onwards, down the road.

The young mage smirked at him, appearing entirely unconcerned. Whatever weird dynamic existed between Saphira and himself, it didn’t matter. Wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?

After waving Eragon off, taking to the sky on his dragon’s back, he followed after Brom. He was already looking forward to the evening.

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Leaving Daret behind, the party of four continued their journey toward Teirm. Cedric was absent last night, but he heard of Eragon’s dream recurring, though few details were gained. As it stood, rescuing the ‘mystery’ woman was all but impossible.

Saphira pestered him over it, but he continued to ignore her, even as he, she and Eragon faced each other, preparing for their mental spar.

“Remember, the goal of this exercise isn’t to harm the other party. Once your own, or your opponent’s defenses are breached, it ends. I don’t want any tempers or egos getting involved—it’s bound to end poorly for everyone.”

To Brom’s credit, he didn’t focus on Cedric, meeting each of his ‘students’ gazes in turn.

“Touch minds, but do not engage. I will count down from three. When I speak the word ‘begin’, you will do so, not a moment before!”

There was a period of silence, Brom punctuating the matter’s seriousness.

“Ready?”

Once Cedric extended his mind, lightly brushing against Eragon and Saphira’s, he nodded; as did they. He’d already prepared a strategy—blitzkrieg over Eragon, eliminating him immediately before tackling Saphira.

“Three. Two. One. Begin!”

The moment Brom’s final word left his mouth, Cedric did exactly as planned. He didn’t try being fancy—a simple [Mind Spike] would suffice, the same technique he used when hunting prey.

He felt their two minds-uncoordinated and inexperienced-slam into his own. At the same time, he pierced toward Eragon’s consciousness, bringing the fullness of his own power and training to bear.

Evidently, they’d anticipated something similar to his strategy, because Saphira was already supporting Eragon. However, they weren’t nearly united enough to present a single mental barrier against him.

The spearpoint of his mind buzzed against theirs, like a steel-tipped edge scraping over glass. Immediately, it became clear how much weaker Eragon was than himself—something that didn’t surprise him.

It wasn’t just skill, but a qualitative difference in their psychic power. Cedric’s mind was uniquely strong, easily outstripping that of other humans. Initially, it’d confused him, but over time, he came to realize it was a side-effect of his reincarnation, being the fusion of two minds.

For an indeterminate moment, the young rider’s defenses held before suddenly being punctured, crumpling like a sheet of tin armor. He cried out, reeling backward while a thin line of blood dribbled from his nose.

Cedric barely noticed, withdrawing from him and turning his attention to Saphira. He couldn’t be distracted—despite her age, perhaps because of her draconic nature, she was far more powerful than Eragon.

He felt excitement surging in his chest. This might even turn out to be a decent fight.

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