“You struck him on the head!”

Corruption?

Through the pounding in his skull, the realization formed slowly.

Corruption… is… speaking?

 Rook struggled through his muddled thoughts. Aware he’d blacked out, he wasn’t sure for how long or of where he now lay. All he could see was black, his sight inhibited by a scratchy cloth over his face.

“You were told they need to be fully conscious!” Corruption sounded far too close for comfort. Then again, anywhere on the same continent was too close. “This includes him! Serpentine may have hard heads, but this one is young, in humanoid form!”

“He struggled, sir.”

There was an exasperated sigh. “Report to Thruin. Inform him you are on depth detail.”

The responding silence lasted so long, Rook thought the guard had left, but then, “Yes sir,” was weakly uttered, followed by the closing of a door.

“So many species are dense these days,” Corruption lamented. “I miss the old ones. Much more reliable and forefront. Of course, you wouldn’t know.”

Is he talking to me? Rook inched this way and that, and was met with restraint. His wrists were hooked to what he visualized as the arms of a dentist chair. Something had been placed on his fingers, preventing them from touching. His legs were bound at the ankles. He twisted each bond, testing the strength.

Footstep approached, bringing the smell of ginger and dead leaves with them. The fabric covering his face slowly split from the bottom upward. Rook’s eyes zeroed in on a knife cutting the fabric a hair’s length from his skin. He went very still.

“Good boy,” Corruption told him, removing the fabric entirely.

Giving a shiver, Rook looked away from Corruption. His eyes widened at the sight of weird tools, jars and exotic collections shelved along the room’s walls. It looked like he was in an alchemy lab from a couple centuries back. He was ready for Dr. Frankenstein to show up.

“What did you say?” a boy called out hoarsely from across the room. Rook noticed a chair similar to his, but faced away. Curly brown hair poked over the top.

“I was talking to my dazed serpent.” Corruption held the knife next to Rook’s eye, pressing the flat against Rook’s skin to force the eye wider. He spoke quieter, almost intimately to Rook, “For one so young, such soulfully old eyes. They will desire you.”

Corruption’s fingers threaded through Rook’s hair until they found where Rook had been struck. He clicked his tongue. “Did this nasty bump wipe out your ability to talk?”

“Dalia?” Rook managed through a tight throat. He swore Corruption smiled behind his mask.

“She’s fine.” Corruption patted Rook’s cheek, then turned to an equipment table. Glass, beakers, and vials clinked as he sorted through them. “I treat my favourites well.”

“Favourites!” The younger boy objected. “What are we, then? Garbage?”

A shimmer ran along Corruption’s figure. Rook bit his cheek to stop from yelling as Corruption’s pagan appearance was replaced by a hairless, disfigured form. The scent of rotting flesh hit Rook like a hammer and he gagged. The boy did not yell out when Corruption reached him, indicating he was used to this face.

“No, not garbage. I have no use for garbage.” Corruption plucked up pliers from the table. “More like compost. Fawns are generally useless in fights and politics, but this would make you overlooked by my targets. A perfect spy.”

“I’m not spying for you. You kidnapped me! You locked me in a stable like…. like livestock!”

“Did they feed you hay?” Rook asked, before he shut his mouth, horrified he’d spoken out loud.

Corruption’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

Shit, shit, shit!

Rook took in a steadying breath.

Okay, just roll with it. Don’t give Corruption the satisfaction that he’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

“What?” the boy asked, disgusted.

Rook placed a shrug in his voice, even as his body trembled. “They literally tried to feed me a rat. Want to trade places?”

Corruption chuckled, playing with the pliers. “Now Rook, Thruin picked that room and menu especially for you.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

“Th-Thruin,” the boy squeaked.

“Does my captain strike more fear in you than I?” Corruption stroked his chin thoughtfully, dislodging a flake of skin. Rook watched in mesmerized disgust as it floated to the ground. “Well, I did select him for his competency in getting things done. There’s no better goblin.”

“And what are you?”

Instead of answering, Corruption inspected the boy.

“Hold still, let me sample those horns.”

“I don’t have horns!” the boy hissed as Corruption clipped him.

“I’ll admit, at twelve they’re more like nubs. Your legs must be aching while the bones bend back to their proper form.”

“They hurt because… you’ve forced them into some sort of stupid costume. If they weren’t bound—”

“You’re bound so you don’t break any bones during the process. Your fur is filling in nicely. You’ll be free to stand soon enough. As for nails and skin, they’ll grow in more naturally.” Corruption looked over at Rook. “How are your teeth, by the way?”

Rook ran his tongue along his gum line, frowning. They could use a good brushing, but that’s about all.

“If this isn’t a costume and that’s my hair—” the boy said.

“Fur,” Corruption corrected.

“—then you’ve given me drugs! Messed with my body! Messed with my mind! I won’t fall for any of it. I won’t cooperate!”

“Considering you’re compost, that’s not a huge loss. Those who don’t become useful will feed those who are.”

“Feed!”

“Being intelligent in this world does not guarantee you’re at the top of the pyramid.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Rook swallowed nervously, but he needed to know, “Are you the top?”

 Corruption turned back toward him. He immediately regretted redrawing his attention.

“I am curious about what’s going on in your head,” Corruption said. “Your kind is not shy with words or pride, yet you’ve made no aggressive demands, threats or insults since entering this room. A cowardly fawn has shown more spit. Did I pluck a basilisk instead of a dragon?” He chuckled, as if he’d made a joke. “I’m beginning to worry that your head was indeed damaged.”

“Why waste breath on what won’t do any good?”

“An intriguing way of thinking.” He placed a finger under Rook’s chin, forcing Rook to lean his head back. “I wonder if the apathy in this situation is unique to you or instinctive to your species?”

With his neck so exposed, Rook’s hairs stood on end. The black, cold eyes made him want to curl and hide, but he refused to look away, trying to counteract his powerlessness.

A smile formed along Corruption’s decrepit mouth. “There’s the pride. Submitting to those outside their hierarchy is difficult for serpentine.” He released Rook’s chin and ran his fingers across Rook’s face. “Your instincts will need to be manipulated to regard me as your patriarch, since dragons are so resistant to direct magic. Not immune, mind you. It will take time and effort. On the other hand, I’ve been patient for centuries, so what’s another year or so for a perfectly tainted dragon?” Corruption took in a deep breath, savoring the thought. “A guardian for my dwelling. My castle. My empire. Raining chaos, fire and smoke whenever called upon.”

Rook remained silent, his thoughts turning. Corruption now reminded him less of a monster than an eccentric scientist. Scientists could be reasoned with... right?

“Ugly freak,” the boy snapped. “When—”

Corruption's smug expression suggested he knew perfectly well this form was revolting.

“A ghoul isn’t to your taste? Very well, perhaps a human?”

As he approached the fawn, his form rippled until a knightly figure took his place. The robe remained, but thick brown hair and a refined beard framed a strong, aristocratic face, free of the earlier defects. The smell of rot dissipated.

The boy’s lips trembled. “Still a corpse.”

Corruption tilted his head and caught Rook watching. “Ah, but the dragon disagrees, and they’re great appraisers of beauty.”

Rook’s fingers curled. “Appearances are worth little if the heart is black.”

“And you know of such things? You don’t even know your own true nature. It is darker than mine.”

“Are you referring to the serpent spiel? Someone mentioned noble and malicious stuff. I thought, perhaps, you had more common sense than them.”

“Has your guard been conversing with you? Is she the one that gave the goat I smell on your breath?”

Rook paled and shut his mouth.

Corruption cut several locks of the fawn’s hair and placed them in a jar. The fawn swore at him.

He returned to Rook.

“While not of huge consequence, you would have been more pliable if she’d followed my instructions. She will be replaced.”

“It was a human,” Rook said quickly. “They brought me my meals. Male. Short, with shaggy hair.”

“Quick to throw a human under the bus.” Corruption laughed. “Don’t look surprised. I learned the human world idioms while I found each of you. After all, I rather like the species.”

“But I’m human! I’m not saying serpentine don’t exist, but you’ve made a mistake with me.”

“Have I?” Corruption placed a finger against the corner of Rook’s eye. “No, I am right. Feel this?”

His finger pressed down and part of Rook’s vision grew blurry, like a windshield wiper had smeared oil across his eye and gotten stuck. Rook blinked, not liking the sensation.

“That is your nictitating membrane,” Corruption explained. “A third lid, you may call it.” He removed his finger and Rook’s vision cleared, like the wiper had pulled back. “Now, this might sting.”

Corruption suddenly made a swift slice across Rook’s arm.

Rook hissed between his teeth. His muscles flexed against the restraints as Corruption held a vial under the cut.

When the bottle was full, Corruption replaced it with a new one, then pressed Rook’s cut with a cloth anointed in something sticky. It stayed in place as he placed the bottles on a shelf alongside others. Not all of them were red. One was pea green. Another was a red so pearlescent, it shimmered silver.

“Oh my god!” the boy cried, spotting the contents. “This has to be some messed up basement where this crazy dude has convinced cult people to mutilate and use makeup and special effects-”

“Such imagination for a fawn,” Corruption tutted, mocking the boy by rubbing his ear.

 “I’m human!”

Corruption grabbed a reflective shield from the door and held it before the boy. Rook managed to make out the boy’s humanish reflection, with the exception that horns peeked shyly from his hair behind goat ears.

“Illegal surgery!” the boy cried. “Body mods.”

“Well, acknowledging your changes is progress.” Corruption sighed, placing aside the shield. He opened a cabinet and retrieved a vial of black liquid, cradling it in his hand. “Now, you need to take five drops.”

“Fuck no!”

“Even if it means better lodgings?”

“I’m not taking anything from you!”

“I’m only asking nicely this time. Refuse, and our next meeting will be forceful. And should that not work out, I will personally feed you to the dragon who’s acquired a taste for goat.”

Rook would have fallen silent in the boy’s place, but the fawn shouted an impressive array of insults.

Corruption calmly placed the liquid back, opened the door and signalled two guards in. “Lower level. Soften him up.”

The guards dragged the kicking and screaming fawn out of the room.

Corruption grabbed a beaker containing five times as much dark liquid as he’d shown to the fawn. He turned to Rook.  

“Now, with you carnivores, when you get a taste, you cry for another and another and another. The rawer the ingredients, the stronger the reaction.”

Rook jerked, his nose flaring as Corruption made a swift, small cut in his own palm, collecting the blood in a pool. It was a darker red than Rook thought healthy. He poured the blood into the beaker’s black contents, whirling it like a glass of wine.

A rush went through Rook as he caught a whiff; fresh and old. There were traces of other things, unidentifiable things, but together they smelled so… good. His stomach cramped. It was like being hungry and seeing juicy berries in the wild, while knowing they’re poisonous.

Corruption slipped his hand behind Rook’s head and tilted the youth’s head upward.

“Open, dragonling. Be good and you will reunite with sweet Dalia.”