Ch 3 Candidate

Chapter Three: Candidate

Henri looked at Commander Bishop with wide eyes as she walked toward him and the Captain. Each step was slow and ponderous as every eye watched her with bated breath. There was a hunger in the lordlings gaze to see her fail in front of them, a new object for their ridicule and derision. Cassian had to hold back the rising heat in his chest as Henri stood before the taller woman. 

The Captain pulled a metal rod from behind her back and offered it to her. It was two feet long and bronze with a green orb at one end and a red orb at the other. The Captain wore a leather glove and didn’t allow her bare skin to touch the metal. 

Henri looked at it for a moment before peeling her own glove off and reaching for it tentatively. She wrapped her long pale fingers around the rod and the Captain released it. For a moment there was pure silence as every eye was riveted to the metal rod and its two orb, waiting for a reaction. 

For a horrible second there was nothing. Cassian could feel his heart sinking for his friend. To fail in front of this crowd of carrion eaters was a terrible fate. Then, as he began to ready himself to comfort her, the green light lit. Captain Nestor offered her a wan smile and then waved to the door off to the side that the two knights had exited from. Henri offered the rod back and shot a nervous glance at Cassian. He offered her a reassuring smile and then forced himself to sit back and watch as the jackals got their own chance. 

The next five all got a hideous red glow that crushed their hopes and relieved them at the same time. Koin was the fourth who went and he swaggered up to the Knight Captain with all of the easy arrogance that those who knew only power could hold. He gave her a greasy smile and grabbed the rod and it was with great delight that Cassian watched as the red glow illuminated his greasy face. 

He stomped off to stand off to the side as the Lord Mayor had yet to dismiss any of them. If anything, Silkes looked to be enjoying the humiliation all of them were enduring as they were told for the first time in their life they weren’t good enough. 

The sixth was a taller girl, roughly his and Henri’s age, with silver blonde hair piled on her head in something that Cassian was sure was fashionable. She wore the standard silk breeches that he knew would fall to her ankle, but her long black boots covered up to her shin. Cassian remembered seeing her around, but never hearing her talk. She normally stood in quiet judgment of the world around her, amethyst eyes glaring at the world. 

For her the green gem lit forth and there was a ripple of frustration as the second woman was chosen. The male lords grumbled to one another while the other women seemed to grow more nervous.  The split in honor and prestige versus likely death was a concern for them and only the most foolish were eagerly hoping for the chance to bond to the armor. 

Time was a trickle as lord after lord failed and gathered like a growing cloud of resentment in the corner of the room. The third success was a man, slightly older than the rest, who had dark black hair and gray eyes. His blood red vest stood out in the dour sea of blacks and gray that most of the other men wore. His teeth flashed white as he smiled and walked away toward the side room without instruction. 

Then more failures. The room grew depressing as those who had failed the attempt outnumbered those who hadn’t tested yet. All the time Cassian and the other servants stood silent witness. Finally a fourth was chosen, a rather short and rotund young man with a florid face and sweaty dark blonde hair.  

The fifth was a muscular woman with dark skin and curly hair. She nodded her head in acceptance while her dark eyes pleaded for fate to change course. Cassian felt a sliver of pity for the girl. 

Then the room was empty and the Knight Commander was looking flustered for the first time. His eyes wandered over the large group of failed lords before he waggled a finger to the Lord Mayor, drawing him out of his corner where he had been content to stand with his now empty tumbler of whisky. 

They bowed their heads together and a series of harsh whispers went back and forth until the Lord Mayor straightened and cast his eyes over the servants. A small and vicious smile broke his stern facade and he bowed his head to whisper into the Commander’s ear. The Commander’s head snapped and his dark eyes met Cassian’s. 

Cassian’s stomach proceeded to fall through the floor and into the bowels of the world. The look of intensity and resolve the knight had was supernatural and Cassian had a bad feeling about what was about to come.  

“Cassian, come forth and be tested,” the Commander ordered. The stir among the failed lordlings was immediate and vicious. The calls of bastard, gutter-slime, baseborn, whoreson, and more came rattling through the babble they projected. Cassian let it all slide off of him as he kept his face blank and strode confidently toward the Captain. 

With every step the crowd grew louder in their protest, more vulgar in their speech, their faces flushed with rage and shame as Cassian grabbed the rod with his bare hand. The metal was smooth and warm under his fingers and he felt a trickle of power surge out of it and run through his arm. That surge of power followed his arm and down it, through his chest, stomach, groin, split and ran down both legs before rebounding to reconnect and flow back out his hand and into the rod. 

Green light bathed his face. 

The room fell silent as everyone stared at the green light. Cassian could have sworn he heard the Knight Commander breathe a sigh of relief, but he was being pushed by the Captain toward the side door before he could fully take in what had just happened. 

The small room they led him into was lit by a pair of gas lanterns that gave a steady, gentle, warm light. The five others who had been accepted all stood by themselves, their body language showcasing their nerves. Henri looked at him with confusion, stepping forward to meet him, but the Captain and Commander followed behind and shut the door with a loud click. 

“Congratulations. You all still have malleable mana channels. Which means you haven’t stuffed your body with all sorts of illicit substances yet. In the next few minutes, we will open this case,” with that the Commander nudged a heavy wooden trunk seated in the corner of the room. 

“Your symbiote will choose you. It won’t be pleasant, but you will like what comes after.” With that the Commander reached down and flipped open the trunk and six blurs of liquid metal shot out like cannons. 

Cassian watched as the six metal pools rose above their heads and swirled around. They were a kaleidoscope of colors, switching and turning this way and that as the gas light reflected off of them to create a rainbow of a thousand colors in the room. 

The rotund boy was the first to be chosen. A pool of the metal broke out of its orbit and lengthened as it fell on him like a striking hawk. It widened out and covered his face and mouth, stifling his scream of panic. His body went rigid and gasps of pain could hardly be made out from under his metal muzzle. 

Cassian watched in horrified fascination as the metal slowly melted away, sliding through the boy's skin and down his throat. The boy fell with a heavy thump, landing in a sprawl of limbs as he began to thrash violently. Black sweat broke out across his brow and Cassian decided it was time to leave. 

“HENRI!” Cassian shouted as he crossed the room in two steps, reaching out to grab his best friend. His fingers danced over her shirtsleeve as a blur passed by his head and he watched in terror as a blob of metal affixed itself on her face. 

“Fuck,” Cassian turned to head back toward the door and saw the Captain and Commander standing there as impartial judges as the metal flew and whirled upon the candidates and in moments only Cassian was left standing. He made it two steps before the last piece of metal turned pitch black and slammed into him. It didn’t land on his face like it had the others but formed itself into a lance and impaled him through the gut. 

Cassian tried to scream, to voice his horror as he watched the black metal slide into his guts. No matter how he tried, his lungs refused to draw the air to scream. There was no blood or other signs of the violence that had just been committed. Just a spike of black metal that wormed its way inside of him. 

The world darkened around him and he realized he was falling, the ground rushing up to catch him. He landed with a weighty thud and the world became just the smell of the musty carpet as he heard the Captain speak for the first time in a husky voice.

“Never seen that before.”