Reborn as a Dragon in Alagaësia

Chapter 6: The Naming of Bahamut

James sat perched on the edge of a rocky cliff, overlooking the vast expanse of the Spine. The forest stretched endlessly below, its vibrant greens dotted with the occasional break where streams glittered like silver veins. The early morning sunlight warmed his deep purple scales, and the cool mountain breeze carried the scent of pine and wildflowers.

Though he had grown accustomed to his new life, James couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. His transformation had brought strength, wings, and freedom, yet he still clung to his old name, his old self—a tether to the life he had left behind.

Smoke curled lazily from his nostrils as his thoughts swirled. I can't keep calling myself James, he reflected. That name doesn't fit anymore. I'm not that person. Not human, not the same.

Over the past year, his reflection in the still waters of the Spine's streams had become a stranger to him. The dragon that stared back was a creature of legend, not a boy from another world. If he was to survive and thrive in this land, he needed to fully embrace what he had become.

He closed his eyes, his thoughts delving deep into memories of stories and myths from Earth. Names of power, strength, and wisdom drifted through his mind until one finally resonated.

Bahamut. The name carried weight and authority, an echo of greatness. It felt right, like an ancient truth awakening within him.

The moment he settled on the name, a surge of energy coursed through his body. His eyes snapped open, glowing briefly with an intense violet light. Heat welled up in his chest, rising rapidly until it reached his throat. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, a torrent of brilliant purple flames erupted from his jaws, lighting up the sky.

The fire was unlike anything he had ever experienced—raw, powerful, and untamed. It roared with an intensity that shook the cliffside, scorching the air around him. When it finally subsided, Bahamut sat back on his haunches, panting, his heart racing. A deep sense of satisfaction and exhilaration filled him. This is who I am now, he thought. Bahamut.

For the first time, he truly felt like a dragon. Not just in form, but in spirit. The name wasn't just a label; it was a declaration, a transformation. The mountains seemed to echo the name, as if the Spine itself acknowledged the birth of something new.

Time Passes

Over the following years, Bahamut settled into his new identity. His control over his flames improved, though each use still left him exhilarated and drained. He practiced tirelessly, weaving the flames into his hunting and self-defense.

Meanwhile, the farm he had been watching so closely changed as well. Roran, once a tiny bundle in Marian's arms, had grown into a spirited toddler, chasing chickens and laughing as Garrow lifted him high into the air. The sight filled Bahamut with a strange sense of warmth and melancholy.

However, as Roran's laughter echoed in the distance one day, a cold realization struck him—Selena, Eragon's mother, was due to arrive soon. Bahamut recalled her tragic role in the story, how she was both an assassin and a spy for Morzan, and how her arrival would change the fate of the farm forever.

His claws dug into the rocky outcrop beneath him as his thoughts turned dark. If she sees me, if she senses what I am, she might tell Morzan. She's too dangerous to approach. He spread his wings and launched himself into the air, the wind rushing past his scales. For now, I'll stay away.

Garrow's Perspective: Selena's Arrival

It was a brisk autumn afternoon when Garrow first spotted the figure approaching the farm. He was stacking firewood near the barn when he noticed a woman walking up the dirt path. She was cloaked in black, her movements slow but deliberate.

At first, Garrow assumed she was a traveler seeking shelter, but as she drew closer, he recognized her.

"Selena?" he called, dropping the log he had been holding.

She stopped a few paces away, her face pale and drawn. Her cloak shifted, revealing the swell of her belly.

"I need your help, Garrow," she said, her voice trembling.

Garrow stared at her, stunned. It had been years since he'd last seen his sister-in-law, and her sudden appearance—pregnant, no less—was a shock.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his tone sharper than he intended. "What's going on, Selena? And whose child is that?"

Selena's eyes darted away, her hands clutching her cloak tightly. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm here now, and I need a place to stay until…" She hesitated. "Until the baby is born."

Garrow shook his head, anger and confusion boiling within him. "You disappear for years without a word, and now you just show up out of the blue, asking for help? What aren't you telling me, Selena?"

"I can't explain," she said, her voice breaking. "Please, Garrow. I don't have anywhere else to go."

The raw desperation in her eyes silenced him. After a long pause, he sighed heavily. "Fine. You can stay. But we're going to talk about this eventually, Selena. I won't have secrets in my home."

The Birth of Eragon

Selena stayed at the farm for several weeks, helping Marian with chores despite her condition. Tensions between her and Garrow simmered beneath the surface, but they avoided any further arguments.

One cold winter night, Selena went into labor. Marian and Garrow worked tirelessly to assist her, their small home filled with the sounds of her pain and determination. Hours later, the cries of a newborn filled the room.

"Eragon," Selena whispered, holding the baby close. Her voice was soft but resolute, as if the name carried a deeper meaning.

Garrow watched her with a mixture of awe and suspicion. He couldn't shake the feeling that Selena was hiding something, but in that moment, he chose to focus on the new life in her arms.

Selena's Departure

Barely a week after Eragon's birth, Selena announced that she had to leave.

"You're leaving him?" Garrow asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

Tears streamed down Selena's face as she gently placed Eragon in Marian's arms. "I don't have a choice," she said, her voice cracking. "If I stay, he'll be in danger."

"What kind of danger, Selena? Who's after you?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she kissed Eragon's forehead, whispered something only he could hear, and turned away. Garrow watched her go, his heart heavy with unanswered questions.

Bahamut's Northern Exploration

Far from the farm, Bahamut roamed the northern reaches of the Spine, his massive wings carrying him over snow-capped peaks and deep valleys. The landscape was breathtaking, untouched by the hands of man.

From a high perch, he caught sight of Du Weldenvarden's vast green expanse in the distance. The forest's ancient, mysterious aura intrigued him, but he kept his distance. The elves live there, he thought. The last free Rider and Dragon, Oromis and Glaedr, lived in that forest, waiting for a new rider to appear. What would they think of me? A dragon with no Rider… a creature out of balance.

He imagined their sharp eyes and ancient wisdom, their deep bond with the dragons of old. They might see him as an abomination, or worse, a threat. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

No, he decided. Not yet. Let the elves keep their forest. I have much to learn here in the Spine before I face them.

Turning away from the distant forest, Bahamut spread his wings and leapt into the sky. The mountains were his sanctuary, a place where he could hone his skills and contemplate his next steps. For now, he would remain here, watching and waiting for the world to turn. But one day, he knew, the time would come when he would have to leave the shadows and face the world that awaited him.