King Beast - Vicious Flames

Chapter 24

The clouds chased each other, engrossed in their celestial races, oblivious to us.

I noticed how the rain changed texture, at times it seemed darker.

The clouds were dragons apparently. Fergus told me so when I commented on it.

I wondered if what I thought was rain – with different texture, was their pee.

"Eww," I muttered.

We strolled through the east side of the castle, opposite of the entrance. Temples and small houses, carved into the rugged rocks, dotted the terrain, their surfaces weathered by the constant flow of molten lava. The glow of the magma illuminated the surroundings with an eerie blue hue, casting dancing shadows across the uneven ground.

And then there were dragons.

At first glance, I mistook them for statues, mere decorations to the rocky land.

Perched on sturdy lava platforms, they were like gigantic gargoyles mixed with guard dogs.

Their forms were partially obscured by layers of volcanic ash and debris, moss and mushroom climbed the humungous legs and backs.

Some were sleeping. But others... their eyes, glowing with an otherworldly intensity, betrayed any signs of life, shifting with a watchful gaze that seemed to pierce through anything, even darkness.

"Have these also returned with our arrival?" I asked, recalling the dragons, much smaller, that had accommodated on the columns at the front of the castle.

"Those arrived when you arrived, My Lady. They are your property," came the response.

I gasped. "What?"

"Well, of course. They protect the womb of the future."

The womb?

Did he just reduce me to a womb? His voice was calm, not arrogant. Fergus was simply honest with me.

I walked in silence for a while, kicking pebbles. They were porous and black, lava stones.

"And these?" My thumb pointed at the still dragons, thrice the size of the huge ones at the front.

"They have been here ever since our Lord was born."

"Which was when?"

"I can't tell you, apologies. Your mortal brain will not be able to contain the information."

Again, no offence was taken. Or I tried not to..

"And they never leave?" I questioned, my eyes found a particularly large one, with golden and black scales. It was hunched over, its crooked fangs bared. I couldn't help but reflexively massage my jaw. How could it maintain that facial expression for centuries?

"They go hunting every hundred years or so," Fergus explained, face forward.

"Aren't they hungry?"

He shrugged, "Every now and then, they might devour a hawk or eagle that happens to fly by."

My breath caught. The crooked fangs dragon had lifted one eyelid, revealing a slit that expanded into a ring-shaped pupil as it focused on me.

"Sometimes a peasant." Fergus chirped.

"A peasant?" I repeated, halting in my tracks to digest the news, much like the dragons might digest the peasants. I observed the lizard-like figures, residents and servants, scurrying about, always giving a wide berth to the platforms where the dragons perched.

"Are they Zerberus's protectors?" I expected a positive answer, considering the dragons at the front were mine.

"Lord doesn't need protection." Fergus remarked, his lips pursed, perhaps concealing a smile, "these dragons dwell with power."