In Eragon as a Mage

Morning light streamed through the cabin's small, fogged windows as Leo sat by the fire, sharpening a hunting knife in slow, deliberate strokes. His father moved around the room, wordlessly preparing their morning meal. The quiet between them was familiar, comfortable even, but today it carried a tension that refused to dissipate.

Leo's thoughts churned like a storm, the events of the past few days weighing heavily on him. He had hunted creatures before—boars, deer, the occasional fox—but the Roc was unlike anything he'd ever faced. And for the first time in years, he felt the need to break the unspoken rule between him and his father: Don't speak unless it's necessary.

"Father," Leo began, his voice breaking the stillness. He paused, gripping the knife tightly. His father stopped stirring the pot over the fire and turned to him, his expression neutral but attentive.

Leo swallowed hard, then reached into his pack. The Roc's talons were the first thing he pulled out, their curved, blackened tips gleaming in the morning light. He set them down on the wooden table with a soft clink, followed by a handful of blood-red feathers that seemed to shimmer unnaturally.

"I killed it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The creature that these came from. It attacked me in the Spine."

His father stepped closer, his brow furrowing as he studied the items. He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing over one of the feathers. The faint shimmer caught his eye, and his hand hesitated.

"What creature?" he asked finally, his tone calm but with an edge of caution.

"A Roc," Leo said, forcing the word out. "A Shadow Roc. It had red eyes, the body of a bird, but jaws like a wolf. It was huge... and it wouldn't stop hunting me."

For a moment, his father said nothing. He picked up one of the talons, turning it over in his hand. The silence stretched, the air between them thick with unspoken questions.

"How did you kill it?" his father asked at last, his tone betraying no emotion.

Leo hesitated. The truth teetered on the edge of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. I used magic. He wasn't ready for that conversation, not yet.

"I got lucky," he lied, averting his eyes. "It lunged at me, and I... I stabbed it in the chest with an arrow. That was enough to bring it down."

His father's sharp gray eyes bore into him, and for a moment, Leo thought he might press further. But then his father nodded, setting the talon back on the table.

"You're alive," his father said simply, as if that was all that mattered.

"I didn't want to bring it back here," Leo said, his words rushing out now. "I was afraid it would follow me, so I stayed in the woods until I was sure it was safe."

His father nodded again, moving back to the fire to check the pot. The tension in the room lessened, but only slightly.

"These feathers," his father said after a moment, his back to Leo, "are worth more than a month's worth of pelts. Hunters don't see creatures like this often. You've done well, Leo."

The words surprised him. Praise from his father was rare, and it filled Leo with a strange mixture of pride and guilt. He glanced at the compendium resting in his pack, its secrets still whispering in the back of his mind.

"I thought we could sell them," Leo said, gesturing to the feathers and talons. "Use the money for more supplies."

His father turned back to him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You've got a good head on your shoulders," he said. "But keep your wits about you, especially in the Spine. Creatures like this one don't roam those mountains without reason. There's always something bigger out there."

Leo nodded, his father's words settling into him like a warning. He knew there was more to the Spine than anyone in Carvahall cared to admit. And now, with the compendium in his possession, he was starting to understand just how deep those mysteries went.

For now, though, he let the moment pass. They finished their meal in silence, the morning light growing stronger as the day began. 

The morning stretched into early afternoon, the soft light filtering through the cabin's small windows as Leo sat by the worktable, carefully inspecting the Roc's talons. They were sharper and sturdier than any material he had ever worked with, their black, glossy surface shimmering faintly in the light. Each talon was nearly as long as his forearm and curved with a natural elegance that seemed almost purposeful.

His father leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, observing in silence as Leo turned the talons over in his hands. The broken pieces of his bow rested on the table beside them, a painful reminder of his encounter with the Roc.

"You've been staring at those things for a while now," his father finally said, his voice breaking the quiet.

Leo looked up, meeting his father's steady gray eyes. "I was just... thinking about how to use them. They're too unique to sell outright. And too strong to waste."

His father pushed off the doorframe and walked over, picking up one of the talons. He held it up, squinting as he examined its curve and sharp tip. "You're right about that," he said. "This is no ordinary material. Whatever that creature was, it left something valuable behind."

Leo waited, sensing that his father had more to say. He wasn't disappointed.

"You need a new bow," his father said, his tone practical. "Why not make one out of these?"

Leo blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. He looked at the talons again, trying to picture them as part of a weapon. It wasn't impossible—the natural curve of the talons could mimic the shape of a bow's limbs—but it would be a challenge to craft.

"A bow?" Leo asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Do you think they'd work for that?"

His father nodded, setting the talon back down. "The Spine provides for those who are clever enough to use what it offers. You've always been good with your hands, Leo. I've seen the things you've made, how careful you are with every cut and knot. If anyone can make it work, it's you."

Leo felt a flicker of pride at his father's words, though he kept his expression neutral. "It'll take time," he said. "And I'll need to reinforce it with something. The talons alone won't hold the tension."

"Use sinew," his father suggested. "We've got plenty from the last hunt. And there's wood in the shed you can shape for the core. If you need help, I'll show you how to carve it."

Leo nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. The project would be ambitious, more complex than anything he'd attempted before, but the idea of turning the Roc's remains into a weapon he could carry into the Spine again was too tempting to resist.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll do it."

His father's lips twitched into a faint smile, one of the rare expressions of approval Leo had come to treasure. "Good. A hunter's only as strong as his tools, Leo. And if that creature's talons are as strong as they look, you'll have a bow that no one else can match."

The rest of the day was spent gathering materials. Leo sorted through the sinew, selecting the strongest strands to use as the bowstring, while his father helped him choose a sturdy piece of mountain ash from the shed for the bow's core. The wood was dense and flexible, ideal for reinforcing the talons and holding the tension needed to make the weapon functional.

By evening, the table was piled with supplies: sinew, wood, the Roc's talons, and a collection of tools. Leo sat back, wiping his hands on his trousers as he surveyed his work. His father stood nearby, his arms crossed as he nodded in approval.

"It won't be easy," his father said, his tone serious. "But nothing worth doing ever is. Take your time with it. You rush, you'll ruin it."

Leo nodded, the weight of the task settling on his shoulders. He knew his father was right—this wasn't something he could rush. It would take patience, skill, and focus, but he was determined to see it through.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the cabin grew dim, Leo reached for the first tool, ready to begin. The talons of the Roc would soon find new life, and with them, Leo would carry a piece of his victory into every hunt that followed.

Let me know if you'd like any adjustments or additions!