Assembling Parts IV
Heart and Eyes
The Pale Queen sent me my next part; a treasure from her private collection. I could hardly contain myself when I touched it for the first time—half a dragon’s heart, preserved in formaldehyde. That night I took it to my room and unscrewed the lid. I dumped the liquid into the latrine, saving only the heart. With it in my hands I felt truly strong for the first time in seasons. This was my true heart, not like the weak mortal pump that sent frail blood coursing through my veins.
The heart and I watched each other for quite some time, as drifts of snow beat against the window. And then I devoured it. It was awfully hard to keep it down, for the meat of a dragon is too rich for a mortal stomach, but I stood tall over the latrine and turned my stomach to stone as it went down. With each bite I could feel myself becoming stronger, I could feel the dragon inside screaming to escape from its mortal cage.
In those days I was finally changing. The Surgeon had done fine work to attach many of the scales to my skin, to morph my hands into the great claws of a dragon. I felt powerful, ravenous, more dragon than man. It was beautiful.
The next morning I went to the foyer to see how the work was coming along. Two days before, the weak members of my housestaff had vanished. Where they went I never knew, but now my maison lay silent and lonely. No longer was there music in the halls, nor the scampering of obedient feet attending to my every whim.
“Arch Dragon,” said the Surgeon. “I have a gift for you.”
I took the wrap of linen cloth from him, hardly able to believe it could have been something that would please me. But my eyes widened when I unravelled the fabric to see red and white.
“My assistant was able to retrieve it. My gift to you. A section of a dragon’s eyeball.”
Oh wondrous sight! I felt like crying again, but dragons do not cry. That was something my Father taught me. I held it in my hand and felt in that moment as if I could see for a thousand miles. It was only a matter of time before we exchanged my eyes for this. Only a matter of time-
“The Engineer left in the night, Arch Dragon,” said the Surgeon. “He left without a trace. It seems he took his pay with him.”
“The bastard,” I growled. The last time that man had seen me he’d almost pissed himself; just by the mere sight of my scales and claws. It made sense. For aeons mortals have been scared of my race, and for good reason.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I asked the Surgeon about his progress, namely about the matter of attaching me to the carapace. I was sure he was the fellow to puzzle it out, though for the last few seasons he’d been unable to think of a single way. Sometimes I wondered why I was paying him, or promising him my estate. I’d seen so much of his work by that point that I was considering taking over the project myself.
“The Carapace,” I said.
“My Lord-” he started, then buckled when he saw the look in my eyes. “Arch Dragon - I have tried to tell you this a thousand times over. It is just not possible to attach you to the carapace. The human body is just too complex to disassemble in such a drastic way-”
“Human body?” I whispered.
“Your current mortal shell,” he said. “It’s impossible. I can continue to modify what we have, I can change your face so that you are more like a dragon - but we must face facts - I will never be able to attach something so big to you. The carapace is complex-”
The fury came again, bubbling from within me. I cannot recall quite what happened next, not the words he said to me nor how we ended up on the marble staircase as I gripped him in my terrible claws and roared at him.
“It is simply too big,” he said. Were there tears in his eyes? Could he see how powerful I’d become? How strong? “You must know this, you must see this!”
Limb from limb, said the voice. He has failed you. And thus the dragon does ascend-
The surgeon had failed me, so I tore him limb from limb. When it was done I laid him out on the foyer floor. I let him know exactly what I was—who the Arch Dragon really was. I devoured some of the flesh to sate my anger, and then I went to work without him. His assistants fled before I could get to them. A shame, that. I was becoming hungrier by the moment.
The maison was abandoned, and for a stretch of days I fashioned my own parts. First came the eye. Though I’d long considered it, the act of removing one of my own and replacing it was less painful than expected. My own eye went to the latrine and the new eye formed. Half of my vision became ensared by darkness but it did not matter. Soon the eye would awaken. I knew this. Soon I would have the sight of a dragon, I would be able to perceive things that no mortal ever could. All I had to do was wait.
Next came the wings. I was moving fast now that I had no foolish mouths telling what I could and couldn’t do. But as the days movedon, there was nothing but darkness in my right eye. No sight. No wondrous sight! I rampaged around the maison. I broke things, shattered the artefacts of my family line. Everything would have to be removed, everything erased. Soon I would have no need for material possessions.
Wings. What I needed were wings! One day not long after, I took a sabre to my back to carve a hole, and attach the wings the surgeon had made for me. They were terribly small, but I supposed I would have to make do. A true dragon can fly any time they want. I promised myself my wings would grow, that one day I would awaken to find them sprawling and gorgeous; that soon I would ascend!