Pugna: An Eragon Fanfic

12

Amazement that this... girl... could defeat me so easily nearly paralyzes me as her white sword pokes into my chest.

"Dead," she says softly.

She tricked you Eragon. She utilized your one weakness, Says Saphira solemnly.

And what is that? I ask irritably.

Your feeling of obligation to help those in need.

I do not call that a weakness, I protest.

No, not usually, but when you are sparring, you should show no mercy to your pupils. It will make them think less of you.

You're right.... But no other pupil would be able to defeat me like that. No one in the whole of Alagaësia could! 

Ah, but Eragon, therein lies your mistake. You overestimate your skills. Therefore I believe this sparring match was good for you. It showed you that you aren't the best swordsman in the world.

I'm the best swordsman in this world, I grumble.

Unblocking and sheathing Brisingr, I stand up. Facing Sabrina, I accept my defeat.

"You are the most adept swordsman... ehem, swordswoman, that I have ever met, and many extraordinary fighters have trained in these halls, and none have beaten me at the sword.

"Since, or so I was told, that was only your second time even holding a sword, I can tell that you will amount to much more than just an everyday, run-of-the-mill rider. I can also tell that your skills are not just with the sword, as you demonstrated earlier with your magic exhibition.

"Therefore, I will teach you personally, though I fear I have less than nothing to teach you. I would also prefer to keep your whereabouts unknown to the other students. The others may seek to befriend you only to have a chance at seeing your powers."

After my speech, I look Sabrina in the eyes.

"It is your responsibility not to abuse your newfound powers. I trust that you will do so."

|•|•|•|

Eragon rises, sheathing his sword. Then, he begins to give this huge speech about stuff I already know or guessed, so I tune out.

Good job beating the old one, little one, Pugna says.

Thanks, I reply, grateful for the support.

Blah, blah, blah, more than just an everyday, run-of-the-mill rider, blah...

Suddenly, Eragon looks me straight in the eyes.

"It is your responsibility not to abuse your newfound powers. I trust that you will do so," he says.

I nod at him. He looks pleased, but also some other emotion that I can't put my finger on...

Pugna interrupts my thoughts. Fear.

What?

Fear. Eragon is afraid.

What! What for? And how'd you know?

I can smell it. And it's probably because he thinks you'll become the next Galbatorix, just more powerful.

Oh. So you can smell fear now? I think, trying not to laugh.