Slowly he slipped into the bathing pool, allowing the steaming hot water to embrace his tight muscles and sear his flesh. Sliding all the way down until his bottom touched the smooth marble step, he closed his eyes and finally let his mind drift away into a pleasant dream-like state. The gentle sway of the water lulled him nearly to sleep. Long dark hair curled out around him, floating on the water's surface. The strands twisted around his shoulders and clung to his neck. This was his favorite moment of each day, the time when he could let his worries slip away in the warmth of the water.

After nearly a half-hour of quiet soaking, he felt the water shift as another body slowly entered the pool. Not opening his eyes, he slid farther down the step and allowed the newcomer to sit behind him. Soft hands soon touched his back, massaging his shoulder blades and stroking along his spine. He moaned and let his head loll to one side as the hands came up and rubbed his neck, pressing around his breastbones and then back up over his biceps. He let out a long sigh as a cloth was pressed against the center of his back, the hands gently scrubbing the scented soap into his skin. The hands moved the cloth down his arms, and then over his chest, brushing over his nipples and down to his flat belly.

He allowed his mind to roam, and the image of green eyes suddenly flashed in his head, accompanied by an incredibly warm feeling in his chest. He smiled to himself and let a playful fantasy dance into his mind. His thoughts were filled with the image of green eyes and nothing more. No body, no face, just the eyes. They reflected passion and love. Their emerald depths seemed to know him, all of him.

The touch of the cloth was so soothing and the water so warm that he fell asleep.

The hands gently shook his shoulder, urging him to wake up. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the servant girl look at him with an anxious look on her face, afraid she had done something wrong.

Sighing in resignation, Lord Emperor Tahnsa Kamrin Sen'rith IX stood up in the pool and turned to the marble steps. Rivulets of warm water poured down his lean body, sliding over his fair skin to splash gently in the pool. The servant girl that had been washing him stepped back quickly, trying to stay out of his way. Tahnsa cast his golden gaze in her direction and sighed. She was afraid of him. Looking around the bathing chamber he saw female servants everywhere.

Some were holding trays of cheese and fruits; others held flasks of wine and water. All of them had their eyes on their Emperor, following his every movement.

Tahnsa stepped from the pool and two of the girls scurried up to him, holding out thick green towels. Tahnsa allowed them to dry his body off and then he slipped on the silken robes offered to him by another girl. As soon as they completed their tasks, each girl quickly retreated to a position near the walls of the room.

Tahnsa looked at his servants, at their beautiful faces and lush bodies. He could have any one of them right now if he wished, and there would be no one who would stop him. He knew that each of these girls, despite their fear, would do anything to become his mistress, for that honor was deemed the highest among the women of his court.

Once he would have used the serving girls without a second thought, but recently he just wasn't interested. His mind had been on other things, namely a pair of emerald green eyes that seemed to haunt his every waking thought. Tahnsa had no idea who they belonged to, but they would not let him rest. They stared into his soul until he was ready to cry in frustration. The image of the eyes added to an already growing sense of restlessness that filled his being.

Shaking these thoughts from his head, Tahnsa turned away from the servants and padded in silk slippers through an archway and into his bedchamber. More servants awaited him there. Tahnsa seated himself on a cushion and nodded to a servant. She stepped forward and stood behind him. She took a comb and began to work it through his long hair, gently loosening any tangles. As she combed, his hair dried, getting lighter in color until it shone it's normal royal blue color, tumbling over his shoulders and down his back like indigo fire.

 When his hair was dry, she plaited three long braids on one side and secured them with gold and sapphire bands. Nodding to her, Tahnsa dismissed her and went to his bed and sat down. Tahnsa felt his body sink deep into the mattress. He sat like that for a long time, his troubled thoughts flickering through his golden eyes as they stared vacantly at the beautifully decorated ceiling.

The room was silent but for his breathing. ::I am surrounded,:: he thought. ::Despite this silence, they are here, they are everywhere.:: Sure, he could dismiss the servants, but they would not go far, no matter where he went one would be nearby, ready to aid him if needed. They did everything for him. Bathed him, groomed him.. they practically fed him. They were even present in his official quarters. Male servants worked in the government wing of the palace, but their duty was the same: loyally serve Emperor Tahnsa.

It was all getting so tiresome. In all of his 23 years, he had been pampered. From the time he was born he had been treated with deference because he was the heir. Schooling and training had been his daily rituals, as he was prepared to follow in his father's footsteps. When Tahnsa's father passed away 10 years ago, Tahnsa assumed the throne and ruled Rethwindon as best he could ever since.

Tahnsa lifted himself from his bed and walked to the looking glass that hung on the far wall. He stood in front of the glass, staring at his reflection in silence. Had it really been 10 years since he had taken the throne of Rethwindon? The Tahnsa in the glass stared back at him, not offering any answers to his question. ::I have not changed much on the outside,:: he thought, his eyes running over his strong, slim body. ::I still have the same fair coloring, the same weird yellow eyes, and my mother's indigo hair. I may be taller now than I was back then, but my chin remains as hairless as a boy's:: Tahnsa's eyebrows arched imperiously as he inspected his face in the glass.

::You wouldn't think the fate of the nation rested on such slender as mine. I look more like a princess than an Emperor.::

However, despite his youthfully pretty looks, inside Tahnsa was solemn and shrewd. Intelligence shone in his golden eyes, betraying an awareness of himself and of his place in the world beyond his years.

Tahnsa *was* the Emperor, after all. His wise rule had kept the nation out of war. While the land was not perfect, it was on its way to a golden age. Assuming the throne at the young age of 13 had been tough, but fortunately he had not been alone. His father's advisor Makrindgal had aided Tahnsa. Mak had been Tahnsa's father's best friend. Now he was Tahnsa's best friend and like a second father to him. Mak was Tahnsa's only friend.

Throughout his life, Mak has always been there, overseeing his schooling, listening when Tahnsa had problems, and was someone Tahnsa could depend on. Mak's steady presence at his side had eased the process of assuming the throne and helped Tahnsa grow comfortable in his responsibility.

::Mak wouldn't understand this,:: Tahnsa thought, rolling his new-formed plan around in his mind. In fact, Mak will be dead-set against it for sure. ::But I have to do it. I'll make him understand me. And even if he doesn't, I'm the Emperor, I can do what I want..::

::Who am I kidding,:: Tahnsa told himself. You are a prisoner in this palace as much as the slaves are prisoners of the pits and combats. But there are many kinds of captivity. ::I will just be exchanging one for another...::

Tahnsa sighed and tossed his braids over one shoulder. Frustration began to turn his stomach into knots. Eyes shining, he looked at Mak beseechingly. "Can't you understand what it is like for me? Every day people surround me, yet I am all alone. Everyone is eager to serve

me, but it is not because they like me, but because it is their duty. I am fawned over, pampered, and coddled until I think I am about to go crazy! You are the only one I can talk to, and frankly, while I value your friendship very much, it is not enough. I want to know what it is like to let someone else have the responsibility for a change. I want someone to like me for my own sake, not for my high position. I am tired of being taken care of by others! I want to be the one taking care of someone else!"

Tahnsa was desperate to make Mak understand how he was feeling.

The sense of loneliness and frustration had been building inside of him for a long time, and he just *had* to find a way to relieve it. Tahnsa looked at the portraits of his royal predecessors that lined the wall to his right. Sorrow and dread bloomed inside his chest, trapped there, clutching his heart until he felt it would stop beating if the feelings got any stronger..

"Although I am a ruler and I feel the heavy responsibility of keeping our land out of war, I want to know the more personal side of caring. You remember that story you read to me when I was a child? The one that is about the prince and the servant boy that were so identical that they switched places? Each one learned about how the other side lived, and both were better people because of their adventures. I want to have an experience like that!" Tahnsa's voice had gotten louder and louder with each word until he was practically shouting. Tahnsa's chest heaved with emotion, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Mak looked at the boy-ruler he had always thought of as a son and

sighed. Tahnsa's idea was crazy, yet he could understand the boy's feelings. He was trapped within the royal palace walls. He deserved a chance to break free from it for once. Mak closed his eyes, concerned thoughts flitting through his mind. He wanted only the best for the boy and couldn't help but worry about him. Opening his eyes, Mak nodded his approval to Tahnsa, whose face broke into a gleaming smile.

Grunting with exertion, Aarik heaved his opponent's body over his shoulder and slammed him into the hard ground. Tight muscles glistening with sweat, Aarik turned to the next man, charging him, and brought his sword up. The sound of metal striking metal filled the arena and the crowds cheered with every clash.

::Bloodthirsty vultures,:: Aarik thought, feeling drops of sweat slide from the ebony hair matted against his head down his neck and along his already glistening spine.

The armor he was wearing was very heavy, and his shoulders ached, not only from fighting, but also from the weight of the armor.. Unused to wearing much clothing at all, Aarik was having a hard time maneuvering in the protective gear. However he knew no matter how burdensome, he had to keep the stuff on. Captain Torth would not suffer losing any of his men under his command, even the ones he hated. It was a matter of honor to him.

"Some honor," Aarik muttered, shoving another attacker away from him.

Aarik knew his armor was for appearance sake only. ::Damn Bastard really wants me dead, I know it. He knows I know it, and it makes him all the happier.::

"Bastard, bastard, bas-" Aarik's grunts were cut off as the air from his lungs was forced out by a sharp punch to the gut. It was the first attacker, looking battered but determined to beat Aarik. Aarik, however, had other plans.

Aarik groaned and howled as he fought his way through the crowds of hardened warriors that were in his way. 'I'll win this damn thing,' Aarik muttered, ::I won't let that asshole Torth have the pleasure of holding this defeat over my head. The tourney will be mine, and so will that damned Key. An image of Torth's sneering face flashed through his head, and Aarik felt himself experiencing the anger and helplessness he always felt when the slave master used his body for his own sadistic pleasures. Muscles tightening with anger, Aarik vented his rage on the warriors surrounding him. Ducking under the clumsy grab of one man and sending an elbow into the gut of another, Aarik brought his sword up and sliced it through the arm of still a third opponent. One by one, the warriors fell to the arena ground, groaning in agony or covered with their own blood.

The scene was gruesome, but so was the idea of tourney itself.

Each year the slave quarters were opened for combat competition between the slaves. One on one they would fight each other in mediated combat until a winner emerged. At this point the winner would have to fight a group of highly trained royal guards. If the slave won the tourney, he was rewarded with one week away from his required duties, and was given a Key. Aarik supposed that this yearly event was used to vent the pent up anger and frustration of the slaves, an attempt to keep them happy and less likely to revolt. However, the gory truth was that it was also a quick and effective means of weeding out the weak, sickly slaves. Hundreds died in the fights each year, leaving only those strong and healthy enough to truly withstand servitude to survive.

This was Aarik's first year of captivity, and thus his first tourney.

But here he was, in the final round of fighting. Torth had not wanted...had not wanted Aarik to participate in the combat atfirst. Aarik had been furious, but helpless to confront his master.However Torth suddenly changed his mind and urged Aarik to fight in the games. Aarik assumed it was because Torth thought that after a year's servitude as a house slave, Aarik would have lost much of his fighting edge. In part, Torth was right. Every day that Aarik missed performing his daily training exercises left him feeling the shackles of slavery even more. Aarik was a trained fighter, and going long without practice, without feeling the weight of armor on his shoulders had left him had left him weakened and his reflexes dulled.

But *grunt* he wasn't *shove* totally defenseless *slash* now. The sword in his hand felt like a natural extension of his body despite the time away from practice. In fact, he felt more alive in this bloody hot arena than he had during the year that had passed since he was taken as a prisoner of war in the neighboring land of Faarhkis and sold to the slave masters of Rethwindon.

With a final stab, Aarik watched the last of the professional fighters fall to the dusty ground, landing in a pool of his own blood. The roar of the crowds was deafening as Aarik opened his hand and dropped his sword, and then slowly removed the heavy shoulder armor and allowed it to fall to the ground with a sickening thud. Aarik drew a muscular forearm across his brow, wiping away the sweat, inadvertently leaving a streak or crimson from an unnoticed wound.

Aarik suddenly felt the of heat of the day pounding on his bare chest His muscles screamed in protest as he strode to the dais where the officials of the games were seated. Torth was there too, a smug smile on his swarthy face. Aarik felt a tingling of suspicion and doubt at the sight of that smile, but pushed it aside. No matter how high ranking of a slave master the bastard was, he couldn't sway the opinions of the officials, nor could he change the rules of the competition.

Aarik stared unflinchingly at his master, challenging him to say something. ::I won this damn tourney you son of a bitch, as much as I know you were hoping I'd rot in hell.::

Aarik's chest was still heaving from his exertions as he waited for the officials to speak. And soon they did, as the oldest of them stood up. A large, solid, gray bearded man with shining gold and green armor approached the edge of the dais and looked down at Aarik.

"Congratulations warrior"' the official said in a gravely voice that spoke of many near-fatal wounds to the throat. "You are the first slave in a generation to make it through the combat against your fellow slaves and then through the final round. You have my congratulations and respect." The official turned to one of his comrades and spoke to him in a rough whisper, and then turned back to Aarik. "You have earned your reward and more." The official held out a box that was long and flat, and made of a dark, polished wood. "Here is the Key that was promised to you, I hope you enjoy it. Also, let it be known to one and all that this warrior is freed from his duties for the period of 1 moonpath. At the end of that time, he shall be transferred to a new service which shall be announced at a later date."

There was a collective gasp of shock that ran through the crowd as everyone sat stunned by the announcement. The officials were being too generous! Granted, this was the first year in a generation that they had seen anyone win the combats, but the reward was too generous for a slave!

Aarik felt a cold feeling run through his body. He glanced at Torth and saw the man's previously smug face now contorted into an expression of anger and confusion. ::Ah,, so the man didn't see this coming, eh? Good, let him chew on that for awhile. He pushed me into competing, and now look where his bloody goals got him. I am free of him now!::

Torth turned and looked at Aarik, returning his glance. Slowly the slave master's face became more controlled and the anger fled from his features, only to be replaced by that look of smug satisfaction again. Aarik looked away quickly, once again uneasy at that smug look. What did that bastard know? He had something under his sleeve, Aarik knew it.

The head official handed the dark wood box to a servant, who carried it down to arena level and presented it to Aarik. With the crowd's eyes on him, Aarik opened the box and was breathless at the sight of its contents. As expected, it was a Key. But this was more than just a normal key, it was huge! Aarik gingerly lifted the Key from the folds of blue velvet in the box. It was made of a material that felt cool and smooth like metal. A long blue tassel trailed from the top end and lay almost invisible amongst the matching folds of indigo velvet. The Key was a pale, almost white color at the top. Traveling down the length of the Key, the white color slowly changed to a dusty rose.. The bottom of the key was shaped to fit into a very large keyhole..

Aarik enjoyed the feel of the cool weight in his palm for a minute before placing the key back in its box. Sentries appeared at his sides to escort him out of the arena and to his prize.

Tahnsa seated himself in the center of the room and enjoyed the sensation of being alone. The only sound to be heard was the gentle trickle of the waterfall in the bathing chamber to the north. He had been here in the palace for 2 days now, and had been pampered even beyond his treatment as emperor. It was amazing. His body had been massaged and toned and his appearance refined until he barely recognized himself. He supposed that was a good thing. No one in the Palace knew his true identity, and he had no intention of enlightening them. As far as the masters knew, Tahnsa was a royal palace slave that had been rewarded by the emperor with the opportunity to serve as a sex slave at Larga's. This was an enviable position for a slave, a compliment to both his looks as well as his ability to perform his duties..

To his new master, Tahnsa would be known as Rowan.

Tahnsa allowed his eyes to roam his new room, taking in the plush blue carpeting, the silken cushions and pillows strewn about, the glass ceiling that allowed the light of the stars and the moon to dance across the walls. The walls themselves had tiny crystals in the shapes of crescent moons and shining suns sprinkled across them, so that at night the crystals glowed with an ethereal luminescence when struck by moonlight. During the day, the sun's beams caused them to glow with dazzling beauty. A large bed dominated the room. It rose rather high off of the floor, and was covered with more than a dozen pillows and plenty of smooth, silky sheets. A small dressing table with a mirror stood against one wall. On the table there was an assortment of crystal jars and vials.

The room was warm, but not overwhelmingly so. The air was scented with a light touch of sweet vanilla. The overall effect of the room at night was that of being in a silvery blue piece of heaven. During the day it was like being in a temple of the sun.

Tahnsa really liked the room.

"This room rivals my Royal chambers in it's luxuriousness," Tahnsa whispered to himself. "And my clothing here puts my court garments to shame."

Looking down at his clothing, Tahnsa examined the fine weave of his loose, royal blue pantaloons. The pants were very comfortable. They were held up by a delicate gold chain that hung low on his hips, and flowed in a shining wave to his ankles, where matching gold chains wrapped around his ankles, gathering the material in. Tahnsa wore a loose, slightly translucent white silken shirt that shimmered with faint gold and silver designs when the light hit it just so. The shirt was buttoned across the chest only. The collar revealed his pale golden throat, while the bottom of the shirt was left open to reveal his flat belly. In his navel rested a tiny blue jewel that glinted in invitation to examine it closely..

Gold arm bands gathered the material of his shirt sleeves in at his upper arm and at his wrists. The thin sleeves were cut open here and there to reveal glimpses of blue material underneath that matched his pantaloons. The wrist bands had tiny bells woven into the gold, so that he jingled slightly when he moved. On his feet were blue slippers. The whole ensemble was designed to tease and entice, and in this case the effect was even more seductive than if he were totally naked. Tahnsa rather enjoyed the feeling of mysteriousness it left him experiencing.

Tahnsa admired the talent of Larga and his staff. They knew their business well. The entire setting, the room, his clothing, his new name, were all chosen to kindle desire.

Tahnsa's long blue hair was left loose in back to land in shimmering waves to his waist. Its vibrant blue color was exactly matched by his pants. At each of his temples were gold jeweled combs that pulled his three thin braids back and drew the hair away from the column of his slender throat. A thin line of blue had been painted around his eyes, coming to a delicate point at the outside corners , emphasizing the golden color of his eyes and their delicate slant.

Aarik was stunned by the opulence of the hall he was being led through. The floor tiles were crafted of the finest white marble which had thin golden veins running through it. Lamps along the walls captured the gold in the floor and set it sparkling. Sections of the floor were covered with thick rugs of intricate design. There were no windows in the hallway, so the only light present was the warm golden glow of the lamps. The walls were covered with tapestries and paintings. Aarik viewed all of this in silence, beginning to feel uncomfortably out of place in such a magnificent environment. He was at least a head taller than the couple who led him through the halls.

His guides were both small and thin, with matching blond hair and translucent white cloths wrapped around their waists. Golden bangles around their wrists and ankles glimmered in the lamplight. The two looked so much and ankles glimmered in the lamplight. The two looked so alike Aarik decided they must be twins. At any rate, they, and everyone else he had seen in this place, were very small boned.

Aarik felt like a clumsy giant. His boots clanked heavily on the marble floors while his guides glided along as silent as sunbeams. Aarik sighed to himself but was soon distracted by the arrival of another servant. As small as the other two, she spoke to them quietly for a moment, occasionally casting her glance at him. Then she nodded and walked away.

His two guides turned to him and smiled. "We're here," they said in eerie unison.

Aarik blinked. "Here?"

He looked around but could see nothing in particular that would distinguish this section of the hallway from the rest that he had just traversed. The twins proved him wrong when they turned to one wall and pulled aside one of the tapestries. Aarik caught a glimpse of a white tiger poised to spring depicted on the tapestry before it was pulled completely out of the way to reveal a large door. Ah, so that is how it is done,' Aarik thought.

One of the twins nodded to Aarik expectantly. It took Aarik a moment to realize what they were hinting for him to do. Reaching into his shirt, he pulled out the heavy indigo key. It began to tingle and feel warmer in his hand as he moved it towards the lock on the door. It was almost too hot to touch by the time he inserted it into the keyhole and turned it.

The door swung slowly inwards. Aarik turned to his guides to ask them how long he had but was startled to find them gone, as if they had never been with him at all. The hallway was empty and moments later the scent of the room beyond the door beckoned him to enter.