In Eragon as a Mage

Leo stood at the edge of the clearing, the weight of the Compendium still heavy in his pack, pressing against his back. His mind raced, torn between the fear of the creature and the newfound resolve that had taken root in his chest. The forest around him felt alive, the trees whispering in the wind, the distant cry of the hawk, and the subtle rustle of unseen creatures all filled the air. But none of these sounds could distract him from the pounding of his heart, nor the thoughts swirling in his head.

He had survived the encounter with the Shadow Roc, barely. But what haunted him now was not just the creature's power—it was the knowledge that it could return. The beast had been tracking him, hunting him. He wasn't sure how far it would go, but one thing was certain: it wouldn't stop. Not unless he did something to end it.

The idea of hunting the Roc sent a chill down his spine. He had faced it once, and the experience had nearly shattered him. Its strength, speed, and intelligence had overwhelmed him. He wasn't ready. He hadn't been ready.

Yet, as he stood there, gazing into the depths of the Spine, another thought wormed its way into his mind. If he didn't act, the Roc could return, could follow him all the way back to the cabin. His father would be in danger. The thought of his father—quiet, sturdy, the one person who had always been there for him—brought an almost sickening weight to his stomach. The last thing he wanted was for the Roc to find his home.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to still his mind. There were too many risks, too many uncertainties. But there was one thing he knew for sure: if he didn't take action, if he didn't track down the creature and finish it, he would live the rest of his life in fear. Fear of the Roc returning. Fear of it stalking him or his father. Fear of being powerless.

A rush of determination surged through him.

The decision was made. He could not, would not, allow this creature to terrorize him any longer. It had tasted his fear, and now it would face the consequences of making an enemy of Leo Hawthorne. He couldn't allow himself to live in fear of something he could defeat.

He reached for the bow slung over his shoulder, running his fingers along its smooth, familiar surface. The bow had always been his most trusted weapon, but this time, it would not be enough. The beast had survived his arrows before—now, he would need to find a way to use his magic, the power the Compendium had whispered to him, to ensure the Roc would not live to harm anyone again.

He looked down at the pack where the Compendium rested, silently urging him to learn more, to understand the true power hidden within the pages. Magic had its price, as he knew all too well, but the cost of inaction was even greater. He couldn't let the Roc roam free.

Leo made his way back to the clearing where the battle had taken place. He couldn't afford to leave any details unexamined. His gaze scanned the ground, searching for any clue that might give him an edge over the creature. He crouched beside the bloodied tracks, following the path where the beast had limped away after their confrontation. The shadowy prints were unmistakable—clawed, deep, and wide.

The sight of them stirred a new wave of unease in him, but he pushed it aside. The Roc had retreated for now, but Leo could not afford to be naive. He had to make sure it would never come back. He had to end it.

The forest was dense and wild here, and the Spine seemed to swallow all light, but Leo's senses were sharp. He could follow the creature's tracks. He could track it down, outsmart it, and perhaps—just perhaps—he could kill it. The cost of using magic against such a creature would be steep, but Leo was ready to pay it.

He took a deep breath and stood tall. His father had taught him not to hesitate, not when it mattered. And now, it mattered more than ever.

The Roc might be the hunter, but Leo was becoming something more. With every step, with every choice, he was growing. The magic, the Compendium, his father's teachings—they had all brought him here. And now, it was time to take the next step.

The wind howled through the trees, rustling the leaves as if urging him forward. He could feel the weight of the forest around him, the ancient power of the Spine whispering secrets just out of reach. But Leo wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

He adjusted the straps on his pack, made sure his knife was secure, and tightened his grip on the bow. There was no turning back. The Shadow Roc was out there, and it wouldn't stop hunting him. But he would hunt it first.

With a final glance back toward the cabin, Leo set his sights on the path ahead. The Spine was vast and wild, but Leo was determined. He was going to track the creature, find it, and end it. This time, he would not be the hunted.

This time, he would be the hunter.

Leo sat in the shadow of an ancient pine, the sun barely breaking through the dense canopy of the Spine. The forest around him hummed with life, but to Leo, it felt distant, muffled—his mind consumed by the task ahead. The Shadow Roc was out there somewhere, and it was up to him to find it.

But he couldn't do it alone. He needed the Compendium.

With his broken bow in hand and his pack resting against his back, Leo opened the familiar, weathered cover of the book, the pages flicking as though waiting for him to ask the right question. He had come to rely on it, trust it in a way that was almost instinctual. Every time he had used magic, the Compendium had whispered its secrets, its knowledge slipping into his mind like a long-lost memory. But this time, something was different. The pages were silent.

He turned the page, then another. The ink was still the same, the old script that danced before his eyes, but the book itself felt cold, distant. The whispers he had grown accustomed to were absent. There was no guidance, no hints, no clues to the magic he so desperately needed.

Frustration boiled inside him. "Come on," he muttered, his voice low. "I need something. I need a spell—anything that can help."

But the book remained silent.

Leo's fingers trembled as he flipped through more pages, each one more stubborn than the last. He could almost feel the book's resistance, as if it were holding back, refusing to reveal its secrets. The Compendium had always been there for him before, but now—now it felt like an unspoken barrier had risen between them.

He leaned forward, eyes narrowed, the tension in his chest rising. "Why won't you help me?" His voice was more pleading now, desperate. "I need to stop it. I need to find it. You've given me everything before. Why not now?"

His words echoed in the quiet forest, but the Compendium remained unfazed. The silence between them stretched longer and longer, suffocating him with its weight. The thought of facing the Roc again, of the creature stalking him, sent a chill through his bones. He couldn't go into this without magic. Without the Compendium.

The longer he waited, the more his frustration boiled over. He closed the book abruptly, slamming it shut. The sound was deafening in the otherwise peaceful clearing.

For a moment, he stared at the book, as if expecting some sort of reaction. But none came. It lay there, in his lap, as still as a stone.

His mind raced. Maybe the magic was too much. Maybe it knew he wasn't ready, that he couldn't handle what it would demand. The Compendium had warned him before, in cryptic whispers, about the cost of using magic. But now, it felt like something more. Like a door he couldn't open, a barrier too high to scale.

Leo let out a frustrated breath, his shoulders slumping. "What am I supposed to do now?"

The forest around him seemed to answer in its own way—by remaining still, by holding its breath.

The compendium lay closed, heavy in his lap. It wasn't just the magic he feared—it was the consequences of using it. The words, the power, they all came at a price. And perhaps that price was too steep for him to pay.

But his resolve returned in a quiet, stubborn stir. He had already come too far. He had faced fear before, in the shadows of the Spine, in the depths of the unknown. The Roc had come, and it would come again. Leo had no choice but to confront it.

With a resigned sigh, he opened the Compendium again, determined this time to push forward, to force the answers from it.

But the pages remained blank, the words obscured, as if mocking him. No matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he tried to will the magic to come, the book refused to cooperate.

Leo's hand clenched around the edges of the Compendium, his frustration mounting. "You've given me so much," he whispered harshly, voice tight with emotion. "Why won't you give me this? I need it. I can't do this without you."

And still, the book remained silent. The coldness seemed to press in around him, heavier than the weight of the Compendium in his hands.

He stood, pacing back and forth, his thoughts scattered. He couldn't back down now. He wouldn't. But this silent refusal from the Compendium... it unsettled him. Was it a test? Was it waiting for him to understand something?

A sudden thought struck him, unbidden and unsettling: What if the book wasn't the only thing guiding him? What if it was his own strength—his own choices—that would shape his path from here on out?

The silence stretched on, and the Compendium lay still in his hands. But something inside Leo stirred. It wasn't just magic that made a person powerful—it was their resolve. Their courage. The ability to stand, even when the path ahead seemed too dark to tread.

He tucked the book into his pack with a finality he hadn't felt before. The magic could wait. The Roc wouldn't. He was going to hunt it, and he was going to survive, with or without the Compendium's help.

He would find his way.

Leo's heart raced as he darted through the thick trees of the Spine, the shadow of the Roc stretching over him like a dark omen. Its blood-red eyes glowed with malice, tracking his every move as it circled above. The creature's massive wings beat the air with a thunderous roar, sending tremors through the ground.

He gripped the broken arrow tightly in his hand, the splintered shaft now a makeshift dagger. His bow was shattered and useless, leaving him with nothing but his wits and raw desperation to survive.

The Roc's deafening screech echoed through the forest, and Leo dove to the side as the beast swooped down, its razor-sharp talons raking the ground where he had just stood. The force of the attack sent dirt and leaves flying into the air. Rolling to his feet, Leo bolted deeper into the forest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The Roc wasn't just a predator—it was a force of nature, relentless and terrifying. Every move Leo made was countered with precision, the creature toying with him like a cat with a mouse. He knew he couldn't run forever.

The compendium's words echoed faintly in his mind, teasing him with fragments of forgotten knowledge. Magic had saved him once before, though at a terrible cost. Could it save him again?

The Roc's shadow loomed larger as it dove once more, its massive form cutting through the air with terrifying speed. Leo dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding the bird's talons as they slashed through the air above him. His body screamed with exhaustion, his legs trembling with every step, but he forced himself to keep moving.

As the Roc circled back for another pass, Leo stumbled into a small clearing. He spun around, his chest heaving, and saw the creature descending again, its red eyes gleaming with predatory glee. This was it. There was no more running.

Leo tightened his grip on the broken arrow, his knuckles white. His mind raced as he recalled the compendium's teachings, the strange and ancient words that had etched themselves into his memory. The power of the ancient language had nearly killed him the last time he had used it, but now he had no other choice.

The Roc swooped down, its talons extended, its beak open in a deafening screech. Leo planted his feet, bracing himself for the inevitable. His lips moved, shaping the forbidden word that burned in his mind like a brand.

"Garjzla!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the clearing.

The air around him rippled as the word of power left his lips, and the ground beneath him trembled violently. A surge of energy shot through him, scorching his veins like molten fire. The earth split open before him, a jagged crack racing toward the Roc.

The bird screamed as the ground beneath it erupted, throwing it off balance. Leo seized the moment. Ignoring the searing pain that wracked his body, he lunged forward, the broken arrow clutched tightly in his hand.

The Roc flapped its wings wildly, trying to regain its footing, but Leo was faster. With a roar of defiance, he plunged the arrow into the creature's chest, driving it deep into the thick, black feathers. The Roc let out an ear-piercing screech, its massive body convulsing as blood poured from the wound.

Leo stumbled back, his vision swimming as the magic's toll hit him like a hammer. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. The Roc thrashed wildly, its cries of pain reverberating through the forest.

For a moment, Leo thought the creature might rise again, its red eyes blazing with rage. But then, with one final shudder, the Roc collapsed, its massive form lying still in the clearing.

Leo lay on the ground, his body trembling, every muscle screaming in agony. The compendium's whispers were silent now, as if the book itself were exhausted by the feat. He had survived, but at what cost? The word of power had drained him to the brink of collapse, and the weight of the magic still pressed heavily on his chest.

As he stared at the lifeless Roc, the reality of what he had done began to sink in. He had tapped into something far greater than himself, something dangerous and uncontrollable. And while the Roc was dead, Leo knew this victory had come with a price—one that he would carry with him for the rest of his days.

The Spine was quiet now, the forest holding its breath.