In Eragon as a Mage

Leo awoke in the dim light of dawn, his body still heavy with the aftermath of the magic. His head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, and his limbs felt as though they had been drained of all energy. His fingers twitched with the lingering effects of the power he had wielded the night before. The Compendium lay beside him on the floor, its pages open to the strange, ancient symbols he had attempted to command. They now seemed distant, almost mocking, as if they were waiting for him to understand the true cost of their power.

His father was nowhere to be seen, and Leo was grateful for that. He wasn't ready to face him, not yet. He wasn't sure how to explain what had happened, how to put words to the terror he had felt as the earth split beneath him. Magic was real, yes, but at what cost?

The early morning air was still cool, and as Leo slowly pulled himself to his feet, the familiar scent of pine and earth filled his senses. He staggered toward the hearth where his father had stoked the fire before leaving. His legs were shaky, and he had to brace himself against the rough walls of the cabin just to keep himself upright. Every step sent a wave of dizziness through him, but he forced himself to keep moving, to keep going.

He made his way to the small wooden table where his father usually left his tools, a simple bowl of broth waiting for him. His father, practical as ever, had left it untouched, knowing Leo would need it soon. His stomach growled faintly in response, but when he reached for the bowl, the motion made him feel lightheaded again. He gripped the edge of the table to steady himself, forcing down the nausea that had accompanied the magic's toll.

Magic. The word felt foreign on his tongue. It wasn't like anything he had ever imagined. The Compendium had whispered its secrets to him, beckoning him deeper, but at what cost? Leo shuddered as he recalled the sensation of the earth trembling beneath his feet, the power rushing through him like a tidal wave. It had been thrilling, intoxicating—until it had taken everything from him.

He sat heavily at the table, the bowl of broth trembling in his hands as he lifted it to his lips. The warm liquid soothed his parched throat, and he swallowed it slowly, savoring the brief moment of comfort. It was all he could do for now—to wait for his body to recover, to regain the strength he had lost.

The day passed slowly. Leo spent it in a fog, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated as his body began to heal. The warmth of the fire did little to ease the exhaustion that clung to him, and his mind remained clouded, filled with the echoes of the magic he had wielded. The book had promised him power, but had it been worth it? The earth had cracked beneath his feet, and he had barely escaped its consequences.

His father returned in the late afternoon, his heavy boots making a soft thud as he entered the cabin. Leo glanced up from where he had been staring blankly at the fire, unable to meet his father's gaze. He could feel the weight of his father's silence, the concern that lingered in the air between them, but Leo had no words to offer. Not yet.

His father said nothing as he set down his pack and went to the hearth to stoke the fire, his movements slow and deliberate. Leo watched him carefully, noting how his father moved with the same quiet efficiency he had always displayed, as though nothing had changed. But Leo knew better. He had felt the magic surge through him, and he knew that his father had to have sensed something was wrong.

After a few moments, his father cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Leo," he said, his voice low and steady, "how are you feeling?"

Leo didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure how to respond, didn't know if he could put into words the toll the magic had taken on him. He had never felt so weak, so vulnerable before. He had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to hunt and survive in the harsh wilderness of the Spine. But the magic had shattered that confidence.

"I'm... I'm alright," Leo finally said, his voice hoarse, though he could hear the lie in his own words. He knew his father wouldn't buy it. He could feel the weight of his father's gaze on him, could hear the unspoken questions in the quiet of the cabin.

His father didn't press him, though. Instead, he knelt beside Leo, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You've been pushing yourself too hard," he said quietly. "The mountain's a harsh place, and magic... it's not something to take lightly."

Leo nodded, though the words didn't make the sense they should have. He had felt the power in him, had been so sure of his ability to control it. But the earth splitting beneath his feet had been a harsh reminder of how little he truly understood.

"I'll be fine," Leo said, more to himself than to his father. He wanted to believe it. He had to believe it. The Compendium was his key to something greater, to a power beyond anything he had ever known. He wouldn't stop now, not when he had only just begun to understand what it could do.

His father gave him a long, measured look, and for a moment, Leo thought he might ask more questions. But instead, his father simply nodded. "Alright. But no more rushing into things. Magic is dangerous, Leo. You can't control it like you can a bow or a knife."

Leo wanted to argue, wanted to tell his father that he understood—better than anyone—that the magic was dangerous. But the words caught in his throat. The Compendium was a mystery to him still, and the price of its power had been more than he was prepared for. He wasn't sure how to explain any of it.

"I'll be careful," Leo said quietly, finally meeting his father's gaze. "I promise."

And so, the days passed in silence, Leo's recovery slow but steady. The fatigue of the magic still clung to him, but he could feel his strength returning bit by bit. Each day, he spent a little more time outside, testing his body's limits, forcing himself to push past the exhaustion. But the whispers of the Compendium never stopped. They echoed in his mind, reminding him of the power that lay within his grasp, urging him to continue, to learn more.

Leo had no intention of stopping. The magic was a part of him now, and though the cost was steep, he knew it would only grow stronger. The earth had split beneath his feet, but he had survived it. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

He would learn to control it, no matter the price.