Chapter 35

When Cedric opened his eyes, the dragon was already awake. Meeting one large, azure orb, embarrassment suddenly rushed in. He recalled the events of last night—how fearful he was.

'You snore rather loudly.'

Saphira bared her teeth in a smile's facsimile, unfolding her wings and limbs while stretching her neck.

Cedric didn't mind her jibe. He knew he wasn't a snorer. Doing his best to ignore the memories, he clambered out from under her, stretching his back. It surprised him, how rested he felt.

'I considered yesterday's issue, and I believe I might have a solution...'

In the middle of a yawn, Saphira returned her attention to him.

'…I'm referring to your two-legged form, of course. Perhaps I'm taking the wrong approach. For me, increasing my knowledge is the most effective way to improve magical capability. However, that may not be the case for dragons.'

After loosening up, Cedric walked toward the cavern opening, catching a few dim, grey rays of light. Teirm's weather was perpetually overcast, but he liked such dreariness.

'I think you should get a 'feel' for a human or elven body. Though, given the latter's unavailability, spending time in Eragon's head is the most practical option.'

Saphira seemed to think it over. However, Cedric sensed she didn't like the idea.

'The form you showed me is one thing, but to be without wings, a tail or even proper teeth… I will not do it. It is too restricting. Besides, Eragon is male.'

Cedric hummed, rubbing his chin. He wasn't too surprised at her refusal.

Thinking it over, was this not going to work? The idea of a half-dragon Saphira fascinated him, but he wouldn't waste time on dead-ends. He had other experiments to attend.

Habitually, he patted his white linen shirt, looking for cigarettes only to find them absent. Realizing what he'd done, he was surprised. He'd given up smoking in his past life, but now he suddenly missed it.

Maybe it wasn't a bad idea, to mix a few herbs after returning to his lab. He already confirmed some could aid concentration or creativity. Besides, the ritual of smoking was somewhat comforting for him.

'…I see. In that case, the only thing I can think of is that werecat.'

'A werecat? What do you mean?'

'Don't play dumb, I know Eragon visited that herbalist. He would've told you about it.'

'…'

Saphira's emotions turned faintly disgruntled, miffed about being caught out.

'Once again, the extent of your knowledge surprises me. It is entirely inexplicable. Eragon mentioned you had refused the witch's invitation, and I do not see the werecat approaching you.'

Cedric smiled, but he didn't provide an answer.

'That's neither here nor there. My point is, if you wish to learn shape-changing, the werecat would serve as the best tutor. Their kind are adept at taking human forms.'

Saphira didn't seem quite ready to let the mystery go, but if Cedric was unwilling, she'd no way to dig out the truth.

'…fine, but would it not be strange of me to ask?'

'Perhaps. But you're a clever girl, I'm sure you'll figure it out.'

Cedric could sense her hesitation, wondering if all the effort was worth it.

'If you wish to abandon the idea, feel free to do so. As I said before, Eragon isn't as helpless as you think. With Brom around, I'm sure he'll be fine.'

'…and you will also be protecting him, according to our deal.'

Saphira voiced her thoughts more for herself than him. However, Cedric, not wanting her to get the wrong idea, was quick to interject.

'Indeed. But I'd caution you against depending on me too much—if Eragon acts foolishly, running head-first into danger, I will not help. If his stupidity leads him to suicide, well, that's hardly my problem. I won't protect him from himself.'

The young dragon didn't very much like his tone.

'…perhaps my attention has made you overly comfortable, Cedric. Do not fool yourself—Eragon is my rider, and the entirety of my heart is with him. Take care not to speak ill of him so easily. You would not enjoy being the focus of my displeasure.'

'You know Eragon better than I, don't you? Then you're well aware of how true my words are. He is exactly the type to find himself floundering in deep waters. I'm merely saying I won't drown with him.'

Saphira's tongue tasted the air, her eyes faintly clouding over. Cedric could sense her considering the issue, repressing an instinctive reaction. Eventually, she reached a conclusion, though with some reluctance.

'…I will think further on what you've said.'

Cedric chuckled, turning to look at her.

'You're free to do what you want. Not that you need my permission, of course. But, as much as I enjoy your company, I'd like to return to Teirm. Time waits for no man, after all.'

----------------------------

Later that day, Cedric sat in his makeshift laboratory. His improvised pencil scribbling on rough, brown paper, the young wizard considered his situation.

He'd a nice little operation, acquiring two henchmen, a measure of wealth, a smattering of materials and experimental subjects. He was secret and secure, with a warehouse aboveground and a lair below.

It wasn't hard to imagine hunkering down for the foreseeable future, trying his ideas one by one. Though, perhaps it would be prudent to expand into the Spine, just to be safe.

Eventually, he set his pencil down and stood. On the table was a manuscript titled 'Biomancy'—his current obsession. In it, he'd scribbled the rules he discovered while experimenting on, well… the thing which, once human, now could only be described as a flesh golem.

The first rules he came across were 'species-limits'. They related to magic's ability, or inability, to enhance a creature's biological functions, as well as introducing new ones.

He already stumbled across this while experimenting in Carvahall, messing around with wild magic. Cedric half-hoped it was a limitation of the latter, but the ancient language provided disappointing results.

His first observation was this: tissues could be enhanced, but a limit was quickly reached. Bones could be strengthened, nerves and tendons thickened, veins widened, and muscle-density increased—however, the body didn't respond well to such changes.

Side-effects were endless, and hard to solve. Heart-failure, tissue degradation, tumors, hampered future growth and regeneration-… if he medicated one side-effect, two more took its place.

The feather-weight balancing of a creature's biological systems weren't so easily overcome. Everything was interconnected in entirely unpredictable ways. Something so innocuous as bite-pressure - easily affected by changes to muscle, bone or tendons - would mess with balance, posture, breathing…

The second rule related to incorporating genetic material from different creatures. It proved similarly unsuccessful. Cedric didn't expect it to be easy, but he was surprised just how difficult it was. After all, in the novel, elves stapled all kinds of animal parts onto themselves without becoming giant swollen, pus-weeping sores.

That isn't to say Cedric made no headway. As always, when trying something new, he started as small as possible. The changes he made to himself were a good example: clearing up his skin, getting rid of dandruff, improving sleep, reducing soreness after exercise-… if it was small, and mundane means could accomplish it, magic could as well.

And accomplish it safely. That was the operative word.

If it were someone else, perhaps they'd be happy with powerful flesh golems, even if they didn't last very long. However, Cedric wasn't. There was no reason he couldn't figure it out. Besides, he didn't want to constantly replace his minions. It was too bothersome.

"How the hell did they do it…?"

Tapping his pencil against his lip, he paged through 'Biomancy', revising what he'd written. He tried thinking back to the elves' animal features. Did anything stand out, anything that would help clue him in on their methodology?

'Maybe the changes were purely superficial? If that's the case, it would make sense—appropriating an animal's appearance, but without their functions?'

Cedric shook his head, quickly discarding the idea. He remembered Blödhgarm, an elven spellcaster, saying something about wanting to turn into a fish, living the rest of his life in the ocean.

It could've been a boast, but even if it was, werecats existed, so shape-changing was definitely possible. The Menoa Tree was another example, with the elven maiden Linnëa turning herself into a tree. And the spirits Eragon and Arya met, creating a golden plant capable of reproduction…

Cedric let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. He couldn't find the sense in all of this with a magnifying class. Even if the gold was purely superficial, embedding particles in the plant's dermis, it wouldn't work. Photosynthesis-ability would be greatly hampered.

He discarded one hypothesis after another, and with growing frustration, did the only thing he could—dropping the issue, leaving it for later. Having developed a throbbing headache, he realized he wasn't in a productive state.

Extending an arm, he pulled on a string attached to a bell. A clear, high note rang above him, echoing down the dark hallway. Being below ground, the room grew rather stuffy, so the door was left open.

Even footsteps sounded soon after, hard soles clicking against the narrow, stone floor. A lit lantern emerged from a side corridor, clutched in a gloved hand.

"You rang, master?"

Silver appeared in the room, standing smartly behind Cedric. His long, silver hair hung to his shoulders, obscuring the strong lines of his scarred face and steely, grey eyes. He was dressed formally and neatly in trousers, boots and a coat, entirely unlike what one would expect from a lifelong pirate.

Cedric, still standing, turned with hands behind his back. He regarded the man silently.

"…you know, you don't have to stay here all the time. You have money, don't you? Why not go enjoy yourself in the city? Go for drinks, watch a play, hire a few hookers… I've been reading all day—hardly something I'd need help with."

Silver blinked, his expression remaining unchanged.

"Thank you, I'll go tomorrow."

Cedric maintained his stare, twiddling thumbs behind his back. What was with this guy? Since when did employers have to persuade employees to take days off?

"No, you can't go tomorrow. I'll be needing you for something else."

"…"

Returning his attention to his desk, he rummaged around, fishing out a piece of paper. On it, he'd sketched what he remembered of Alagaësia. It seemed rather mundane, but even something like a map wasn't easy to come by in this day and age. Most only depicted local areas, and were wrong besides.

"Take this and head over to Gi'lead. I'll be needing you to do some information gathering. Investigating the military presence, primarily, but there'll be a full briefing later. For now, start readying for the journey. You'll have to finance it yourself, but if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

Taken aback, Silver took the map. It needed to be said, Gi'lead was cross-country from Teirm. It wasn't simply a matter of 'heading over'. Depending on the weather, journeying could easily take a month.

"…very well. But won't you be needing my assistance here? Your research-…"

"The boy will tend to that. Besides, this task is more important, and I can't trust him with it. He lacks the necessary competence and fortitude."

Silver gave a slow nod, but the cloudy look in his eyes suggested he wasn't quite satisfied.

Cedric raised a hand to his mouth, clearing his throat.

"Don't look at me like that. I said investigate the military presence. This is purely reconnaissance, no combat…"

However, while speaking, his expression briefly turned thoughtful.

"…that said, being safe is better than being sorry. Take the golem with you, in case of emergency. Don't worry about damaging it either. It won't act on its own, and is capable of obeying simple commands. Aside from feeding and hiding it, it won't make a nuisance of itself."

Silver's eyebrow twitched. Impassive as he was, it seemed he wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved or worried.

"As you command, master."

Waving his hand, Cedric reached into his vest with the other, fishing out a rough wooden pipe. After lighting it, he inhaled deeply, drawing on the aromatic, blue-ish smoke.

"That'll be it, then. I expect you to be ready the day after tomorrow, no later. Smuggle the golem out through the sewers. You might want a cart or something to hide it. Stuff it with grass, hay—whatever. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Silver took in the words, waiting for a moment to see if more was forthcoming. When Cedric's attention remained otherwise occupied, he bowed low before turning, his wavering lantern and slow, steady footsteps retreating the way they came.

-------------------------