Capítulo 10: Chapter 10: The Dawn of Mental Battles
[3,439 words]
The first rays of morning light had yet to break over the horizon when Eragon stirred from his sleep. It wasn't the soft glow of dawn or Saphira's rumbling breaths that woke him. Instead, it was the steady sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel outside the cave. Groggily, Eragon blinked his eyes open, the dim interior of the cave coming into focus.
'Who's out there this early?' he wondered. Saphira stirred beside him, her keen eyes already alert. She raised her head, her ears flicking in the direction of the noise. With a mutual sense of curiosity, they both rose quietly to their feet, preparing to investigate.
Just as they were about to step out of the cave, the entrance darkened. Brom stumbled in, breathing heavily, and dropped a large, overstuffed backpack next to the wall with a resounding thud. His face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.
Eragon raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "Oh, good. You're already awake," Brom huffed, trying to sound nonchalant, though he was clearly winded from carrying such a heavy load.
"With all the noise you made, you probably woke the whole forest," Eragon shot back, amusement tugging at his lips as he smirked.
Brom glanced at him with a wry smile. "Not a bad thing, then. Keeps the wolves away." He wiped his brow and then gestured toward the large backpack. "I hope you don't mind, but from now on, I'll be staying here with you and Saphira. If that's all right with you."
Eragon eyed the large pack, still a little puzzled. "If you don't mind sleeping in a cave instead of your nice, comfortable bed back in town, then you're welcome to stay," he said with a shrug.
Brom chuckled, clearly pleased. "Good. We'll be up at dawn every day for training anyway. Might as well save myself the trip."
"Then make yourself at home," Eragon said, smiling lightly as he gestured to the cavernous space around them. Brom nodded, still catching his breath but clearly content with his decision.
After a moment of silence, Brom clapped his hands together. "Right, let's have some breakfast. Then we can start today's training."
After Eragon went out of the cave to take care of his morning business, they gathered what little food they had, with Brom eating a small portion of bread and cheese while Eragon shared some meat with Saphira, who tore into two rabbits she had caught the previous day. The sound of Saphira crunching on bones filled the air as the three sat in comfortable silence, focusing on their meal.
Once breakfast was finished, Brom stood up and motioned for Eragon to follow him outside. The sky was still dim, with just the barest hint of light peeking through the trees. The cool morning air brushed against Eragon's skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the cave.
Brom led Eragon to a shaded spot under a large tree, its gnarled roots twisting in and out of the ground like serpents. "Sit," Brom instructed, pointing to a patch of grass near the tree's base.
Eragon complied, lowering himself to the ground with his back resting against the sturdy trunk. Saphira padded over and curled up nearby, her watchful eyes observing the two of them.
Brom stood before Eragon, his expression turning serious. "Today, I'm going to teach you how to open your mind to the world around you."
Eragon, already familiar with the concept from the books and his own experimentation, still listened intently. 'It's better to let him explain than reveal too much,' Eragon thought. After all, Brom had no idea Eragon had been practicing these abilities ever since Saphira hatched. But Eragon saw no harm in allowing Brom to guide him through the basics once again.
"The mind is a powerful tool, Eragon," Brom began, pacing slowly as he spoke. "If you learn to control it, you can reach out and touch the thoughts of people around you, and even animals and plants. But it also leaves you vulnerable. A skilled magic user can invade your mind, read your thoughts, and even take control over your mind if they're strong enough."
Eragon's eyebrows furrowed slightly. It sure does sound more insidious than the passive connection he had made with animals before. Though he didn't have someone try to invade his own mind yet.
Brom paused dramatically, giving his words time to settle. "You must train yourself to recognize when someone is trying to enter your mind, and you must learn how to defend yourself." He stopped pacing and turned to Eragon. "When an enemy attempts to invade your mind, you need to focus on a single thought—a mental shield of sorts—to prevent them from breaking in and reading your deeper thoughts."
Eragon nodded, pretending this was all new information. Brom seemed satisfied by his attentiveness, so he continued.
"Now, I'm going to send my mind to touch yours. This way, you'll know what it feels like when someone tries to invade your thoughts. Prepare yourself," Brom said as he fixed his gaze on Eragon.
Eragon's muscles tensed slightly as he waited, and suddenly he felt it.
When Brom reached out with his mind, it felt alien, like an unfamiliar hand trying to probe into the depths of his consciousness. The sensation was unsettling, like an intrusion where there should have been none.
The connection between him and Saphira was completely different—intimate and natural, almost like an extension of his own being. But this was different.
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but inside, Eragon shuddered at the strangeness of the feeling. 'So this is what it's like to have your mind invaded huh...'
Just as Brom withdrew his mind from Eragon's, Eragon received a sudden notification in his mind— signifying a new resistance was gained.
[Mental Invasion Resistance Level 1] Gained. This skill passively increases your mind's defense against external interference.
Eragon's heart skipped a beat, and a flash of joy filled him. 'Perfect,' he thought. 'Another skill to help protect me.' He quickly composed himself, not wanting to give anything away.
"Did you feel that?" Brom asked, studying Eragon closely.
Eragon nodded, his voice coming out in an odd tone as he replied, "I did. It's… unpleasant. I'll definitely recognize it next time." He paused for a moment and then added, "It feels different from the connection I have with Saphira."
"Of course," Brom replied with a small smile. "Your bond with Saphira is unique. It's not just a mental link. It's a melding of minds on a basic level, binding the two of you for life. There is no greater connection, no truer bond. It is a friendship unlike any other."
Eragon nodded, the warmth of Brom's words resonating within him. He glanced over at Saphira, who rumbled softly in agreement, her large eyes reflecting her affection for him. 'Yes,' Eragon thought to himself, 'no bond could ever replace this one.'
"Now," Brom said with a sudden seriousness in his tone, "I'm going to try and invade your mind again. This time, I want you to defend yourself."
Eragon straightened his back, preparing himself. "I'm ready."
Brom reached out with his mind once more, but this time, he found himself facing a transparent, sturdy bubble surrounding Eragon's consciousness. Brom frowned slightly and pressed harder, attempting to break through, but Eragon's mental shield held firm.
Eragon concentrated intensely, holding onto the single thought that anchored his shield. Every time Brom increased his pressure, Eragon pushed back, refusing to let his defenses falter.
As they continued this mental battle, Eragon could feel his newfound skill growing stronger. Each attempt Brom made to breach his mind was met with increased resistance, and with every passing moment, Eragon's Mental Invasion Resistance skill leveled up, much to his delight.
For two hours, they continued the exercise. Brom pushed harder and harder, testing Eragon's limits, while Eragon focused on maintaining his shield and repelling the intrusion. By the time Brom finally stopped, Eragon was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily from the exertion.
"That's enough for now," Brom said, his own breathing as even as before, clearly haven't going all out on Eragon. "Go rest. You've earned it."
Eragon nodded, his legs feeling shaky as he got up and walked back into the cave. He flopped down onto the ground, closing his eyes as exhaustion washed over him. As he lay there, trying to recover, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
'Just as I thought, my Resistance Perk is broken,' Eragon mused. 'Soon I might not even need to actively defend my mind and could just rely on my natural defense to block invasions'
Outside the cave, Brom watched Eragon go with a thoughtful expression. He couldn't help but marvel at Eragon's progress. 'The boy is more talented than anyone I've ever seen. He's learning to defend his mind at an alarming rate. His endurance too is frightening, he actually endured for two hours on his first try in this kind of training.'
A small, satisfied smile appeared on Brom's face. 'It's almost frightening how fast he's advancing. It's as if... he was born for this...'
But little did Brom know, Eragon had just raised his Mental Invasion Resistance skill to level 6 in those two hours. And with every level gained, the young Rider was becoming even more formidable.
Eragon had barely recovered from his intense morning training for half an hour when Brom's gruff voice called out to him from the cave entrance. "Rest's over. Time to continue," Brom said, his voice brooking no argument.
Eragon groaned softly, his head still aching from the earlier mental battle. He had only been given half an hour to catch his breath and regain some strength, but there was no room for complaint. This was the life he chose for himself and what was expected of a Dragon Rider, and it demanded everything from him.
Pushing himself to his feet, Eragon glanced over at Saphira. She was lying nearby, her body coiled like a large cat, her sapphire-blue eyes glimmering with a gentle warmth. Eragon could feel her silent encouragement, urging him forward from the connection the had. With a determined nod, he stepped out of the cave to join Brom in the clearing outside.
Brom stood with his arms crossed, his eyes sharp and focused. He gestured toward the worn sword at Eragon's waist. "Take your sword," he instructed. "We'll work on refining your sword techniques like yesterday. I'll watch and correct you as needed."
Eragon held his wooden sword, the weight of the weapon was familiar in his hand now, but he still had a long way to go before he would be truly proficient. Taking a deep breath, Eragon began to move through the stances and techniques he had learned over the past year of self-training and what Brom showed him yesterday.
At first, he moved with care, his strikes controlled and precise. But as the minutes passed, Brom's corrections came in sharp and frequent.
"Your grip's too tight. Relax your wrists," Brom advised, his voice carrying over the sound of wood cutting through the air. "Don't force the sword—let it guide you."
Eragon adjusted his grip and continued, the sweat already beginning to form on his brow. He moved faster now, trying to incorporate Brom's advice while keeping his form as clean as possible. Every few strikes, Brom would call out another critique.
"Don't lean so far forward! You're leaving your back exposed!" Brom barked.
"Stay on the balls of your feet—don't plant yourself!"
"Good! Now strike harder—your opponent won't wait for you to be gentle!"
The hours passed in this grueling fashion, and Eragon's arms began to feel like lead. Yet, his body, honed from a year of hard training and blessed with an inhuman level of endurance, continued to move with surprising strength. Brom observed him with an expression that fluctuated between satisfaction and disbelief.
'He's strong. Stronger than any human should be,' Brom thought, watching as Eragon's muscles flexed and rippled beneath his tunic, showing no sign of tiring. 'How is this possible? Can someone one morning transform and get such divine strength out of the blue?' He sighed inwardly, both impressed and concerned. Eragon's rapid growth as a swordsman wasn't normal. But for now, Brom let the thought pass, content to continue shaping him into a formidable warrior.
After what felt like an eternity, Brom finally held up his hand. "Enough," he said. "We'll break for lunch."
Eragon put down his sword, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His body was sore, his muscles burning from the exertion, but he wasn't tired at all and a deep sense of satisfaction filled him. He had endured another round of intense training, and he was getting stronger by the minute.
They sat in the shade of a large tree, sharing a simple meal of bread, dried meat, and fruit. Saphira sat nearby, her jaws working through the remnants of a wild rabbit she had caught earlier. Eragon took a deep breath, savoring the peaceful moment.
Just as they were eating, Eragon suddenly felt a shift in the mental connection he shared with Saphira. A sudden clarity, like the breaking of a dam. And then, clear as day, he heard her voice.
'Hungry.'
Eragon nearly choked on his food, his eyes widening as he whipped his head around to look at Saphira. The dragon raised her head and blinked at him calmly, her thoughts brushing against his own like a soft whisper.
"Saphira… you…" Eragon said aloud, barely able to contain his astonishment.
Brom looked up from his meal, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. "What is it?" he asked.
Eragon grinned broadly, unable to contain his excitement. "Saphira just spoke to me. Her first word—she said she was hungry!"
Brom's stern expression softened, and for a moment, a rare smile crossed his weathered face. "Ah," he said quietly, "so it begins. Dragons are incredibly intelligent creatures. It was only a matter of time before she began speaking. Soon enough, she'll be holding full conversations with us."
Eragon felt a surge of pride and affection for Saphira, who had returned to her meal as if nothing extraordinary had happened. The bond between them was growing stronger with each passing day, and now that she had found her voice, their connection would deepen even further.
Saphira glanced at Eragon, her eyes filled with warmth and a silent acknowledgment of their shared triumph. 'Together.' She whispered the word into his mind, her emotions wrapping around his own like a comforting blanket. The word carried a weight that transcended its simplicity, a declaration of their shared path.
Eragon smiled softly, reaching out mentally to touch her thoughts in return. 'Always together.'
After lunch, Brom stood and dusted off his hands. "Come," he said, motioning for Eragon to follow him. "Now that your body has been trained for the day, we'll turn our attention to the mind once more. I'll begin teaching you the Ancient Language—the language of magic."
Eragon's interest piqued immediately. This was something he had been waiting for. The Ancient Language was the key to unlocking true power—magic in its purest form. Though he had learned a few words from books, he knew that nothing could compare to proper instruction from someone as experienced as Brom.
They moved to a quiet spot near the edge of the clearing, where the sound of rustling leaves and the soft chirping of birds created a peaceful backdrop. Brom sat down on a large, flat stone and gestured for Eragon to do the same. Saphira remained close by, watching them with her sharp gaze.
"The Ancient Language," Brom began, "is the foundation of magic. Every spell, every enchantment, is spoken in this language. But it's more than just words. To speak it is to bind yourself to the truth. You cannot lie in the Ancient Language—your words are your bond."
Eragon listened intently, his mind racing with thoughts of what he could do with such power. He could sense the weight of Brom's words, the seriousness of the language he was about to learn.
"Let's start with something simple," Brom said, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. "The word for 'fire' is 'brisingr' as you already know from your vision. When you speak it, if your intent is strong enough, you can summon fire from nothing."
Eragon repeated the word slowly, playing the sound on his tongue. "Brisingr."
Brom nodded. "Good. But remember, it's not just about saying the word. You must understand its meaning, its essence. When you say 'brisingr,' you must "feel" the fire. Know that it exists within you, waiting to be called forth."
Eragon focused, closing his eyes as he repeated the word in his mind. 'Brisingr.' He imagined the heat, the flames dancing in his palm, ready to be summoned at his will.
"Try it," Brom said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of expectation.
Eragon raised his hand and spoke the word aloud with conviction. "Brisingr!"
A small flame sputtered to life in the palm of his hand, flickering strongly for several seconds before Eragon cut the connection and let the flames fade. Eragon's smiled, he was already quite proficient at conjuring fire at this point. After all, he used this magical fire to enhance his magical resistance during this 3 weeks.
Brom smiled approvingly. "Not bad for your second attempt at magic. But you need to work on control. Magic comes at a cost—your own energy. The larger the spell, the greater the cost. Always be mindful of that."
Eragon nodded, feeling both exhilarated and cautious. The power of magic was thrilling, but he could sense the danger that came with it. It was a tool, a weapon, and a responsibility all wrapped into one.
They continued practicing for the rest of the afternoon, with Brom teaching Eragon more words in the Ancient Language—'vöndr' for 'wand,' 'skölir' for 'shield,' and 'deloi' for 'earth.' Each word carried with it a unique power, and Eragon quickly realized that magic wasn't something to be taken lightly. Even the simplest spells required concentration, intent, and a deep understanding of the words themselves.
For example, creating fire with the word "Brisingr" is deceptively simple. The ancient language holds immense power, and just uttering that word can summon flames, but the intensity of the fire entirely depends on the caster's intent and the amount of energy is channeled into the spell.
If Eragon's focus is slight, and his intent minimal, a small flicker will dance to life—just enough to light a candle or warm his hands. The flame would be harmless, almost gentle, casting a soft glow in the dark.
However, if Eragon pours more energy into the spell, and his intent sharpens, the fire could grow into something far more powerful. A roaring inferno could explode forth, capable of engulfing everything in its path, its searing heat scorching the ground, twisting the air with its intensity. The size and ferocity of the blaze are bound only by Eragon's will and stamina. A mere word could bring about anything from a delicate flame to a destructive force.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, Eragon was mentally exhausted, luckily his body wasn't all that tired thanks to fatigue resistance. But despite his headache, there was a deep sense of fulfillment in his chest.
He had learned so much in a single day—more than he could have imagined. And with Brom by his side, he knew there was still so much more to come.
As they returned to the cave to rest for the night, Eragon couldn't help but feel a growing sense of anticipation for the days ahead. His path as a Dragon Rider was just beginning, and with Saphira by his side and Brom as his teacher, he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
A/N: I couldn't decide if the chapter is too long and I should just split it in two. If you don't like the long chapters, send me a message about it.
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[Pain Resistance Level 137]
[Radiation Resistance Level 149]
[Fatigue Resistance Level 161]
[Abrasion Resistance Level 128]
[Heat Resistance Level 151]
[Blunt Force Resistance Level 96]
[Oxygen Deprivation Resistance Level 69]
[Vertigo Resistance Level 61]
[Irritant Resistance Level 23]
[Cold Resistance Level 137]
[Poison Resistance Level 37]
[Sleep Deprivation Resistance Level 142]
[Alcohol Resistance Level 12]
[Cut Resistance Level 24]
[Hunger Resistance Level 70]
[Pressure Resistance Level 20]
[Dehydration Resistance Level 60]
[Sickness Resistance Level 3]
[Virus Resistance Level 3]
[Sensory Overload Resistance Level 43]
[Magic Resistance Level 24]
[Mental Invasion Resistance Level 6]
Estado de energía semanal
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