Instead of Arya, I prefer her mom (Chapter 50) (Patreon)

Though he preferred being alone, Cedric joined a group of travelers—wanting to stand out less and avoid unsavory attention. Ruffians wouldn’t think twice about accosting a lone teenage boy, and while dealing with them would be easy enough, it was too troublesome.

Currently, Cedric huddled near the edge of their camp, preparing for nightfall. Aside from some rations, a raggedy bedroll and worn clothes, he didn’t have much in the way of possessions. He didn’t want to tempt anyone into rummaging through his things—not that there was anything to find. The valuables he ‘acquired’ in Teirm were hidden in a stash in the forest-…

“Uhm, excuse me.”

While Cedric was thinking, a childish voice suddenly spoke behind him. Looking irritably over his shoulder, he saw a small boy, ten years old or younger. He had dark hair, a girlish face and thin limbs—evidence of past malnutrition.

Cedric noticed his presence beforehand, but thinking it was nothing more than a summons for dinner, he wasn’t bothered. However, instead of that, the boy shuffled closer, his expression cautious. He reached inside his shirt, withdrawing an oily piece of paper.

“This is for you.”

Shoving it into Cedric’s hands, he left in a hurry, looking worried, like he didn’t want to be here.

Cedric’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips drawing into a thin line. This wasn’t good. Someone had already found him.

He wanted to grab the kid and wring some answers from him, but that could be perceived as hostility. Cedric didn’t think this was the doing of the dark-clothed figures from the sewers, contacting him in such a clumsy way.

Well, there was only one way to know for sure.

Glancing toward the camp and seeing everyone preoccupied, he stood and walked into the woods. This matter was too important to delay.

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A while later, Cedric leaned his back against a trunk, his expression thoughtful. He read the letter, and the contents weren’t what he expected.

“It’s that guy…”

Muttering to himself, the image of a certain person appeared at the forefront of his mind. The sender was none other than the mercenary he met in the sewers. Given his appearance and abilities, particularly his capacity for violence, he was unforgettable.

Apparently, he’d changed his mind about offering his services. The letter detailed how he was willing to take a single job in exchange for everything Cedric had stashed away.

“How does he even know-...? Forget it, it doesn’t matter.”

Pursing his lips, Cedric stared into the forest. For a moment, his gaze turned cloudy from thinking. It didn’t take long to reach his decision.

Right now, he had little use for gold. During his stay in Teirm, he had many expenses—purchasing reagents and equipment, mostly. Until he found a suitable location to rebuild his laboratory, he’d require little other than basic necessities.

Extending a finger, he burned a simple, one word reply into the paper. According to the mysterious mercenary, the child was their means of staying in contact.  Any message could be relayed through him.

Cedric looked in the camp’s direction, where the muddy, wheel-tracked load led over a hill and into the distance. He felt somewhat uncertain about what he wanted to do, or perhaps it was more accurate to say he didn’t have a concrete plan.

However, leaving the elven princess to her doom—plausible, given this was a parallel world—seemed like a bad idea. Not for any moral reasons, but practical ones. The Varden were Galbatorix’s main enemy, and without the elves’ support—likely to vanish if Arya died while assisting them—the tyrant king would have an easier time dealing with the rebels.

Cedric didn’t have a horse in this particular race, but it was unlikely to turn out well for him if Galbatorix wiped out all opposition. Right now, he was focused on external threats, but with them gone, he would turn his attention inward, wanting to consolidate power…

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“Damn that boy!”

Riding on a pair of horses, two men passed through a small town on the way to Gi’lead. The speaker was an old man, his face lined and weathered. His expression was stormy, with dark clouds roiling behind his faded, blue eyes.

He looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties, grey from the hair on his head to his brows, beard and even the hair on his forearms. However, despite his age, there was a vigor and solidness to him that spoke of a certain strength, belonging to both body and character.

The other man was younger, appearing in his late thirties or early forties. Unlike his companion, he seemed more exasperated than angry, glancing concernedly at the road ahead.

They were none other than Brom and Jeod, tracking Eragon. Wiith the young rider’s disappearance, they were in a state of chaos, appearing and then suddenly vanishing again in the middle of the night.

Jeod shouted over the rush of wind and the sound of hooves clattering.

“Children can be a handful, that’s for sure. But, I don’t think you should be too harsh on him. He’s going through a lot. And frankly, it takes two people to argue-…”

Brom didn’t let him finish, interrupting with a loud, angry scoff.

“There’s no point in taking the boy’s side, Jeod. If he were a normal child, his behavior would be more tolerable, but that isn’t the case. Eragon is well aware of how precarious his situation is, which makes this tantrum even more unacceptable.”

Jeod pursed his lips before shaking his head with a sigh, unable to suppress the thought of Brom not being a very good mentor. If it were an isolated incident, he might’ve taken a harsher stance toward Eragon, but the old rider’s other ward had likewise taken flight.

Even now, they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of that red-headed boy. If it weren’t for Eragon and Brom’s opinion that he was more dangerous to the city than the city was to him, Jeod might’ve had trouble sleeping at night.

The point was, though he was Brom’s friend, he wasn’t blind to his shortcomings. Hadn’t he been kept in the dark for decades? Jeod still hadn’t entirely gotten over it, that the Varden weren’t willing to trust him with information of Brom’s survival. However, he was an adult, and knew personal feelings were often sacrificed for utilitarian reasons.

It would be different for two teenage boys, though. They were unlikely to react well to such treatment, and Brom, being the old hardass he was, and with no experience raising children, wouldn’t be willing to bend. It was no surprise that things had come to this.

Jeod felt like sighing again. This wasn’t his problem. Well, as a member of the Varden, the new dragon rider was his business, but the conflict was between Eragon and Brom. Besides, he wouldn’t be present when his old friend managed to catch up to Eragon. Jeod would ride with Brom some of the way, but with a business to run and his wife waiting in Teirm, he’d head back soon.

After a period of silence, unable to restrain himself, Jeod suddenly opened his mouth, shouting above the noise.

“You blame the boy for not thinking of the bigger picture, but you’re doing the same! If you treat him too harshly, who knows what he might do? Isn’t the kingdom’s future more important than your pride?”

He waited for a reply, staring at Brom’s back as he rode ahead, but aside from an almost imperceptible clenching of the old badger’s fists around the reins, there was no response.

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Early the next morning, Cedric watched as the dark-haired kid from last night released a bird with something attached to its leg. He wondered how the message would be sent, but for some reason hadn’t imagined something so mundane as a carrier pigeon.

The boy, though somewhat shy and awkward, didn’t try to hide anything, letting Cedric follow along once he’d received the burnt piece of paper.

Unable to suppress his curiosity, Cedric posed a question.

“…how long have you been working for that man?”

The boy’s gaze moved away from where the bird disappeared, his shoulders tensing slightly. From his attitude today and last night, he seemingly wasn’t one for conversation.

“Two years, maybe three.”

His reply drew an odd look from Cedric. The kid didn’t seem in any way related to that giant, and appeared rather unremarkable. Him being so young didn’t make for a good hire either.

“I see. Are here just for me, or are you headed somewhere?”

The boy hesitated, but then shook his head. Apparently, he really was just tagging along to facilitate communication.

Cedric rubbed his chin, feeling the situation was a bit strange. However, he wasn’t going to think too hard about it. The world was full of mysteries, and trying to unravel each and every one of them would be a waste of time.

Given how slow Silver’s journey was with his ‘passenger’ and two oxen pulling his cart, Cedric was already halfway caught up. The most important thing right now was to smooth out the kinks in his plan for rescuing the princess, and what to do afterwards.

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