Chapter 22

It was late, the sun already having set. As was their custom, Brom, Cedric, Eragon and Saphira huddled around a campfire. Figures of flame danced over the glowing coals, adding a hint of mystery to the atmosphere.

The old rider was already asleep, curled up in his hide bedroll. The healing took its toll, sapping his body's reserves.

Eragon was similarly exhausted, but found himself wide-eyed. The day's events replayed endlessly in his mind. The imprints of sorrow, fear and worry were so vivid he could practically taste them.

Despite the horror, there was also excitement. The battle, holding Za'roc in his hands, seeing the blood, the death—it was strangely bewitching. Eragon didn't want to think too hard about what it meant, feeling that way.

Most of all, Cedric's magic stuck in his mind—that bolt of white, shining lighting. He could hardly imagine such a thing was possible. Man manipulated flame, water, earth and even wind, but lighting was beyond mortals, or so Eragon thought.

He was proven wrong. Magic was a thing of miracles, and now he was capable of it as well. How could Eragon sleep, knowing what he did?

His gaze slid toward Cedric, reclining with his back against a stump. The red-head's hands were behind his head, his eyes closed and a long wick of grass sticking from his mouth. He seemed utterly careless, despite today's events.

'We are becoming more powerful. Soon, none will be able to stand in our way.'

Saphira's voice suddenly sounded in Eragon's mind, commenting on his newly gained power.

'That is true, but which path shall we choose? I thought I knew my place in the world, but I'm no longer sure.'

'Which ever path your heart desires. Whatever the hurdles, we will face them together and overcome them.'

From her, he sensed reassurance and confidence. He was glad for it. At least, it helped make up for his own uncertainty.

A few minutes later, after exchanging thoughts and feelings with Saphira, his attention returned to Cedric. He couldn't get magic out of his mind, and feeling he might burst from all the questions, he spoke up.

"You still awake, Cid?"

Unconsciously, his speech was more respectful than before.

Cedric opened one eye, shifting the grass-wick to the other side of his mouth.

"Don't sound so meek, Eragon, it doesn't suit you."

Embarrassed, the young rider rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, between us two, you'd be Brom's senior apprentice. Observing custom-…"

"Screw custom. Just talk normally. Besides, that kind of tone makes my skin crawl."

Eragon laughed, relaxing. The reply was very much in character for Cedric.

"Alright. I wanted to ask, well… you explained the basics of magic to me a while ago. It's just-…"

"It's not surprising you're still confused. Knowing a few basic rules hardly qualifies one in the discipline."

Cedric stroked his chin, turning his head to regard Eragon.

"I'm amenable to answering, but I'd like you to promise me something first."

The young rider raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"…alright. What is it?"

"The things I tell you are to remain secret. You can't reveal it to anyone else."

His fiery eyes flicked toward Saphira, meeting her big, azure ones.

"If I don't get a promise from you both, I won't say a thing."

Eragon's face revealed a hint of curiosity, but after seemingly thinking it over, he nodded.

"You have our word. We won't tell anyone."

This time, it was Cedric's turn to be surprised. His friend's answer was expected, but he anticipated some stubbornness from the dragon.

Glancing at her, he could glean nothing from her 'expression'. Cedric decided to take her at her word, guessing Saphira was far too proud to lie.

"…very well, ask away."

After getting permission, Eragon seemed to struggle for a while before raising his hands, gesturing helplessness.

"Sorry, but I know so little. Deciding where to begin is already difficult… the best question I can think of is this: what is magic?"

Before answering, Cedric reached for his knapsack, withdrawing a wooden comb. Then, he absentmindedly started brushing the tangles out of his hair.

"You don't start small, do you? I'm not sure if I can answer that question. Hmm… perhaps I'll just say whatever comes to mind. Hopefully, you'll find some of it useful."

He took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing.

"Magic is where our mental world overlaps with the real world. For most people, this is impossible. Their thoughts and feelings can't directly affect things outside their bodies, but not for magic users. How or why exactly it works that way or what makes us special, well… I couldn't tell you, because I don't know either. That said, as you already know, it's not as simple as thinking or feeling a thing and watching it happen. It takes work, and this work consumes energy, the same way fire consumes wood. Without fuel, magic wouldn't 'work'."

"Aside from that, I might mention the types of magic users as well. Roughly, we can divide ourselves into four categories, corresponding to the source of our powers: riders, sorcerers, mages and wizards. You already know what a rider is and where their strength comes from. Sorcerers use spirits to perform their magic, while mages are their own source. Wizards and witches use potions and various strange spells."

When he finished speaking, Eragon was silent for a while, pondering the information. Eventually, clarity returned to his eyes, and he posed a question.

"Then, if my magic comes from being a rider, where do you get yours? Are you a mage?"

Cedric smiled, the expression slightly secretive.

"I am a mage, but I could also be considered a wizard. Unfortunately, I don't have any materials with me, otherwise I might've showed you something interesting."

Eragon seemed surprised, ready to proceed with more questions, but Cedric didn't let him.

"It's late, and I'm tired. If you want to know more, ask me another time. You could also try Brom, but getting anything from him is like pulling teeth."

Finished with his grooming, the red-head tied his hair before turning around, readying his own bedroll.

"Put out the fire when you go to bed."

Cedric laid with his back to Eragon, going to sleep right there and then.

The young rider was left feeling somewhat miffed. Given no choice, he could only express his feelings to Saphira, who shared his frustration.

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Sometime after midnight, long after Eragon had gone to sleep, a quiet rustling noise could be heard. It was near imperceptible, drowned out by the sound of wind, rustling brush and grass.

The sky being overcast, there was no moon or stars to alleviate the darkness. Its source remained a mystery—that is, to all but Cedric. This was unsurprising, given he was the one responsible.

The time had come for him to go his own way. Brom couldn't keep him, not after exposing his own vulnerability. Neither was he troubled by concern for the party of three—they'd given him precious little reason to care, being complicit in his abduction. Besides, they were in far less danger than during canonical events, given the Ra'zac's absence.

Silent as a shadow, he snuck out of camp. All belongings were left behind—what he needed could be made, and they'd only slow him down.

Yet… it seemed he wasn't entirely undetected. On the outskirts, nearly past the horses, Cedric felt a pressure against his mind. It was animalistic, but vaster than that of any animal, and possessing an alien intelligence.

Swallowing a grumble, he came to a standstill. He'd expected this to happen, but was vexed all the same. After readying his mental defenses, he bridged the connection. If Saphira thought she could stop him, she had another thing coming.

'What do you want? You can't stop me from leaving, so don't waste your time.'

'…'

Saphira didn't reply immediately, but did communicate an impression of vague distaste. 

'Human, be silent and listen. I wish to speak with you.'

She allowed her surface-level thoughts to bleed through, imparting a sense of reluctant forthrightness.

Tasting her strange, foreign, yet familiar emotions, Cedric found himself hesitating. He was ready for a conflict, but it seemed Saphira had other plans.

As for whether she was lying, he barely considered it. When it came to mental communication, emotions could be hidden, but not really faked—at least, he'd never managed it.

Without waiting for a reply, Saphira continued.

'I do not like you. Do not take this to mean otherwise. It is simply bartering, as you people do, exchanging one thing for another.'

If Cedric was confused before, he was doubly so now. What was the dragon getting at?

'I cannot deny it, you are a powerful mage—far more than I thought. As a mere hatchling yourself, I never suspected your abilities would exceed Brom's. However, I am forced to confront that reality.'

'I am aware of your dislike for Brom and myself, but despite that, I would purchase your services. I do not know if your care for Eragon is genuine, but it doesn't matter—as long as you are willing to protect him, I am willing to meet your demands.'

Cedric didn't even begin to see this coming. Instead of apologizing, she was trying to… buy him? How did that even make sense?

'…you want me to be his bodyguard? What a ridiculous concept! Why do you even need me? Can't you do it yourself? Even if I was willing, you have nothing to pay me with!'

Saphira's reply was the mental equivalent of a growl.

'Do not test me! I am not unaware of my own limitations. There are things that I, as a dragon, cannot do, places I cannot enter. I need look no further than yesterday's incident—for fear of being spotted, I was not present when disaster struck. As much as that vexes me, I know this will not change. Eragon will continue to venture where I am unable to follow!'

Cedric gave the issue some thought. She wasn't wrong, but to admit weakness to him, of all people? Surely, she wasn't so desperate?

'Think what you will of me! It matters none. I will not lose my rider, not so soon after my hatching. That is all.'

Still, that was one thing, but what did it have to do with him? She was right in doubting the extent of his empathy—Cedric certainly wouldn't sacrifice his freedom to shepherd Eragon around.

'You are being tedious. I do not expect you to act purely out of kindness, nor would I depend on yours even if you were willing! I am offering a deal—accept or decline, it is your choice.'

Saphira's logic may have been sound, but what did that change? The fact remained, she had absolutely nothing to offer him!

'You do not fool me, fire-hair. I have already felt the extent of your greed. It is not what I can offer you, but what you want from me. Speak it, so we may come to an agreement!'

Cedric felt a surge of irritation. This was why he didn't like touching minds. No matter his caution, some feelings always bled through. Well, it wasn't exactly a bad thing, that she knew. He didn't have a merchant's temperament, disliking that sort of back-and-forth, coy negotiation.

However, he doubted Saphira would agree to his demands; and if she wouldn't, then there was no point. His appetite was indeed big, perhaps too big.

'Grrr, you humans are always so long-winded! Even Eragon suffers from the same affliction. Spit it out!'

Cedric unconsciously rubbed his hands. The request alone was enough to get him in trouble. If Brom, the Varden or, gods forbid, the elves caught wind of their deal, he'd be hunted down like a dog.

'Whether I agree or not, I shall not speak of this to anyone!'

That wasn't worth much, though. There was nothing stopping Saphira from going back on her words.

'Insolence! I am a DRAGON! Such deceptions are beneath me!'

A smirk spread across Cedric's face, though she couldn't see it. He seriously considered it. If the deal did resolve in his favor, his gain would be enormous.

After a while, he spoke over their mental bond, his thoughts deliberate.

'Very well. I will require a few small things from you - scales, claws... blood. We must make a promise, one sworn in the ancient language. I will also do the same, agreeing to abide by whatever conditions you set forth…'

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