In Eragon as a Mage

The Spine loomed before Leo, its towering trees swaying gently in the wind like silent sentinels. The dense forest had always been a place of mystery and danger, but it had also been a refuge, a sanctuary where he could clear his thoughts. Today, as grief pressed heavily on his chest, the Spine called to him like an old friend.

The air was crisp, the scent of pine and damp earth filling his lungs. Leo's footsteps were slow and measured as he walked deeper into the forest, his mind replaying his father's final words. The weight of loss clung to him, but the familiar rhythm of the wilderness eased his burden, if only slightly.

He found himself in a small glade, where sunlight streamed through the canopy above, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and for a moment, the world felt still—peaceful.

But then, a voice broke the silence.

"Grief cuts deep, like a blade unseen,

Yet through the shadow, light will glean.

Worry not for what is lost,

For every gift requires a cost."

Leo spun around, his heart leaping into his throat. Standing at the edge of the glade was a figure unlike any he had ever seen. She was small and delicate, her form almost translucent, as if she were woven from moonlight itself. Her blonde hair flowed like a silken river, and her eyes, though milky and unseeing, seemed to pierce through him.

"Who are you?" Leo asked, his voice cautious but curious.

The woman tilted her head, a serene smile gracing her lips. "Luna Heartreach is my name,

A fleeting whisper, a flickering flame.

Through the woods, I wander free,

Blind to the world, yet the world sees me."

Leo blinked, unsure if she was real or some trick of his imagination. "How… how can you see me? You're blind."

Luna chuckled softly, the sound like the tinkling of distant wind chimes. "Blind to sight, but not to soul,

I see the parts that make you whole.

Your heart is heavy, weighed by pain,

But storms must pass to bring the rain."

Her words, though cryptic, struck a chord within him. He stepped closer, his curiosity overcoming his caution. "Are you… a spirit?"

She nodded, her movements as fluid as water. "A spirit, a guide, a fleeting spark,

A voice that sings within the dark.

The Spine is mine, my sacred space,

To wandering souls, I show my face."

Leo hesitated, unsure of what to say. He had never believed in such things, but there was something undeniably otherworldly about her presence. "Why are you here? Why now?"

Luna stepped forward, her bare feet barely making a sound on the forest floor. She raised a hand, though she did not touch him. "Sadness clings to you like dew,

Your heart is broken, split in two.

But even in despair so grim,

There is a light that burns within."

Leo felt a lump rise in his throat. "My father… he's gone," he said, his voice breaking. "I don't know what to do now."

Luna's expression softened, and for the first time, her riddles faded into simple, comforting words. "The ones we love never truly leave us. They live on in our memories, in the lessons they've taught us, and in the strength they've given us to carry on."

She knelt by a patch of wildflowers growing near the base of a tree and ran her fingers over the petals. "Life and death are but a dance,

A fleeting moment, a fleeting chance.

But every end begins anew,

The path ahead is shaped by you."

Leo lowered himself to sit on the grass, his knees drawn up to his chest. "It doesn't feel that way. It feels… empty."

Luna turned her sightless gaze toward him, her ethereal glow seeming to brighten. "Empty spaces beg to be filled,

With dreams yet dreamt, with strength and will.

Your father's love has left a spark,

A guiding light within the dark."

For a long moment, Leo sat in silence, her words echoing in his mind. He didn't know why, but her presence—her strange, lyrical way of speaking—brought him a measure of peace he hadn't thought possible. The ache in his chest didn't vanish, but it softened, like a wound beginning to heal.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the glade in a golden light, Luna began to fade, her form growing fainter with each passing second.

"Wait," Leo said, standing quickly. "Will I see you again?"

She smiled, a faint shimmer of moonlight in the fading day. "In the shadows or in the glow,

Where magic flows, there I shall go.

But worry not, young hunter bold,

For strength lies within, worth more than gold."

And with that, she vanished, leaving Leo alone in the glade. But the emptiness he had felt before was no longer as overwhelming. He looked up at the sky, the first stars beginning to appear, and took a deep breath.

He wasn't sure what lay ahead, but he knew one thing: he would carry his father's memory with him, and he would face whatever came his way with the strength his father had always seen in him.

With renewed purpose, Leo turned and began the journey back to the cabin, the whispers of the Spine lingering in the air like a gentle melody.

The walk back to the cabin was slow, each step crunching softly on the pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the Spine in shades of gray and silver, the world bathed in twilight. Leo's thoughts churned as he retraced his steps, the meeting with Luna playing over and over in his mind.

Her words, cryptic and melodic, lingered like a song he couldn't quite forget. "Life and death are but a dance... A fleeting moment, a fleeting chance." He murmured the line under his breath, trying to untangle its meaning. Was it her way of reminding him to live in the moment, or something deeper? Her presence had felt so surreal, yet grounding, like she had seen right through him to the grief and uncertainty festering in his heart.

He paused by a stream to drink, watching as the water twisted and turned around smooth stones. The reflection staring back at him looked older than he remembered. His father's absence already felt like a gaping hole, but the words Luna had spoken tugged at him: "The ones we love never truly leave us."

His father's lessons—how to hunt, how to skin a pelt, how to listen to the woods—played through his memory as if they were spoken yesterday. Those weren't gone. They were part of him now, just as much as his grief.

Leo stood, his resolve strengthening. Luna was right—his father's love and teachings were the spark he needed to move forward. He wasn't done yet. The Spine had been his home, and the hunt his life, long before tragedy struck. He had to focus on surviving, on using the skills his father had left behind to carve out his path.

As the cabin came into view, shadowed by the towering mountains, Leo set his mind to the task ahead. The supply stores they'd brought back from Carvahall were still packed, waiting to be sorted. He hadn't hunted since the wolves attacked; the wounds, both physical and emotional, had kept him from venturing into the wilderness.

Leo pushed open the door and was greeted by the faint scent of pine resin and leather. The cabin was silent, the hearth cold, but it felt less oppressive now than it had when he first returned alone. He placed the supplies on the workbench, then set about unpacking. Salt, dried meats, flour, and a bundle of fresh arrows—everything his father had insisted they needed for the winter.

His fingers brushed over the fletching of the arrows, and he paused. The hunt. It was time to reclaim that part of himself. He turned to the corner where his bow leaned against the wall. It was a masterpiece, crafted from the talons of the Roc and still as sharp and lethal as the day he'd made it.

After lighting a small fire in the hearth, Leo began preparing for the next day. He checked the bowstring, testing its tautness, and examined the talons for any signs of wear. They gleamed faintly in the firelight, sharp and deadly. He bundled a quiver of arrows, the tips honed to perfection, and gathered his hunting pack, filling it with the essentials: a knife, a coil of rope, and a waterskin.

As he worked, Luna's voice drifted back to him, as if carried by the wind. "Sadness clings to you like dew... Your heart is broken, split in two..." He didn't know what she was, or why she had appeared to him, but he felt her words had unlocked something within him—something he couldn't quite define yet.

He finished his preparations and stepped outside, gazing up at the stars that blanketed the sky. The Spine was eerily quiet at night, the only sounds the faint rustle of leaves and the distant call of an owl.

"Father," he whispered, his voice carried away by the wind, "I'll keep going. I promise. I'll use everything you taught me."

Tomorrow, he would venture deep into the Spine, not only to hunt but to reclaim the part of himself he feared he'd lost. The woods would test him, as they always had, but Leo was ready to face them.

As he returned inside and lay on his cot, the fire casting dancing shadows across the walls, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him. His father's voice, his lessons, and Luna's riddles all swirled together in his dreams, preparing him for the dawn of a new day.