Chapter 36 The Burning Sculpture of Lust
“Fodder,” he hisses directly into Zaries’ face. “I claim you in the name of the great silver dragon. You are mine, Zaries Carpathian!”
Suddenly, Zaries’ armor begins to melt. It drips off him like water, exposing his underclothes as if he had taken his armor off himself. Zaries stares at the Captain in shock, mouth agape, as the melted steel crawls back up his body. It covers every inch of him, encasing him in the metal like a statue.
Zaries’ fear is clear in his eyes as he watches it all progress towards his head, but he remains still. Brave. That is until the metal climbs up his neck and starts slipping into his mouth. The prince lets out a garbled scream, his eyes rolling back in his head, and he nearly falls backward as he claws at his neck feebly.
I try to call out, to move, but I’m held in place, unable to even open my mouth. Thorne holds me with his magic, paralyzing me in place so I cannot intervene. My eyes flare as the metal completely engulfs his head and Zaries stops moving altogether.
Steel puts his mask back on and then places his hand on Zaries’ head as the magic ebbs and the metal solidifies and then all at once bursts into dust particles and blows away in the wind.
Zaries takes a huge breath and begins coughing hard. He falls to his hands and knees, eyes wide with terror as he tries to regain his bearings.
Once again, the line of men and women behind Zaries cheer, running up around him and their captain, lifting Zaries into the air as they chant.
“Steel, Steel, Steel!”
The energy hits again, harder this time, making the rest of us shake and falter in place. I wrap my arms around myself, trembling with the immense power. What is this power that washes over us? What are these Captains doing to my friends? My gaze shifts from Zaries to Thorne as the master opens his mouth to speak again.
“Captain Cinder!” he roars, raising both hands with his staff up and slamming it into the ground again. The stones beneath our feet buckle and break, molten lava bubbling up in spurts. It boils, roiling over the ground so brightly that everyone has to shield their eyes.
When the brilliant light dims, a woman can be seen crawling out of the ground, lava dripping from her nearly nude body. “Fodder…”
Her voice is like gravel, like it's been burned by her lava. She pulls herself to her feet, a broken red scale covering her breasts, a red skirt held on with a gold chain at her hips, leaving just a strip of red scaly fabric between her legs.
She’s barefoot, and she’s gorgeous, but as she turns her body to face the crowd, I see the entire left side of her head burned to a crisp. Black, melted skin meets her raven hair at her crown, and a severe green eye remains searching the crowd.
“Where is my fodder?” she growls, holding her hands out in front of her and tilting her head eerily to the side. The line next to me booms with cheers and war cries before they lunge at Malachi and drag him, blades to his neck, and throw him at the feet of the goddess of a woman who summoned him.
“Fodder,” she purrs, falling on both knees in front of him and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Malachi grins, his excitement at being so near her power becoming evident in his trousers. He leans in, excited. Of course, he’d be turned on at a time like this, where everyone else is terrified. He’s not whole in his mind, I know it.
“I claim you in the name of the ruby mistress herself. I burn you, mark you. I own you. Malachi, you are my blood as I am hers.” Cinder leans forward, pressing her mouth to Malachi’s.
But instead of a sultry kiss, he erupts in flame.
Cinder laughs, her voice full of malice and dark glee as Malachi’s body is engulfed in flame. The lava coating her body ripples, then spreads fast. It rolls over him, creating a blazing sculpture of lust and fire.
Cinder laughs again, but this time the ripples solidify into dark stone. Malachi turns from roaring red to frozen black. The crust cracks, breaks, and then flakes away, falling into rubble around them both.
“M-my mistress,” he stutters, hands on Cinder’s hips, fingertips digging in.
“I’m going to enjoy you, big boy,” she whispers, her slayers snickering around her.
I’m still reeling, unsure whether I’m awed or disgusted when a wave of power hits without warning. Everyone falls on hands and knees, bowing to Thorne and the remaining captains. I fight to control my panic as I watch everyone I came here with do the same. The power is so strong, stronger than fate settling on me. It’s as if fate is throwing us around like ragdolls, getting stronger with every devotion of a new slayer trainee.
“Captain Bane,” Thorne snickers. Even he’s lost in the power of Cinder’s performance.
Darkness stirs next to him, the shape of a man stepping forward and materializing. His body is covered completely by a black cloak, his hood lowered over his face and showing only a pale white mouth filled with pointed teeth like a dragon itself.
“Fodder…” he whispers, his voice like a million dead and tortured souls ripping out of hell itself. Shadows spread from him, darkness itself, and engulf Oberon on my right.
I lock eyes with my old friend, but I see no fear as the shadows pull him up from his knees and drag him toward his captain. He’s watched the other two trainees get claimed just like I did. He knows that what’s coming will be horrible, and I can see in his eyes that he’s ready to face whatever Bane has in store.
Deathly pale hands with long, pointed black nails rise from the billowing sleeves at Bane’s sides. He clasps Oberon’s face, his thumbs covering his eyes, and shadows coat my friend like a second skin.