The wind whipped through his hair as he seemed to fly over the ground. The mount beneath him surged at his nudge. He couldn't remember feeling so free in all his life. There was only himself, his mount and the terrain they tore over like the wind itself.

He slowly brought his mount to a stop. Its wet flanks heaved under him as it pulled in deep breaths of air. His own breathing was fast and the blood pounded in his head.

He raised his arms over his head. "I AM ALIVE!" he screamed to the sky above him.

Movement at the edge of his vision caused him to whirl in his spot. Overhead, the sky was blocked by the dark canopy of the twisted trees around him. The scent of the damp loam beneath his feet filled his nostrils.

A deep growl sounded behind him, warning him of imminent attack.

He didn't even pause to look for his pursuer. He simply ran. Fleeing his greatest enemy. He dodged the dark forms of trees, slogging through the murky waters that crept farther and farther up his tiring legs.

He turned another corner, and ran down the dark corridors. He didn't look back, he didn't have to. He could hear his enemy's breathing. He was being overtaken. He tried to push his body harder, but he seemed to be moving through cold molasses. He made another turn, slamming into the solid marble wall in the process.

Strong hands grabbed him before he could take another step. Golden eyes stared down at him.

"Did you like it, slut?" the familiar deep voice asked.

He fell back into the plush red carpet and stared up at the dark figure above him. Long, silken black hair fell past the man's waist. His body was larger than any other man he'd ever seen. The sun had darkened his skin to a deep brown. Time had yet to touch him, marring him with the signs of age. He was a God born to man. Eyes as golden as his own burned with an undying rage.

"I… we…" he began trying to explain what he didn't understand himself.

The man was suddenly on top of him, crushing him into the carpet with his weight, stealing his breath.

"We? It used to be we. I told you what to do, Kasander." Fetim's voice dripped hatred. "But you didn't listen did you, little slut? You let him touch us. You enjoyed it. You defiled us!" "No! Please. He didn't… It wasn't like that! I would never let him defile us!"

"I don't believe you. You've let Tabris turn you into a cocksucker, and you like it."

Thick hands wrapped around his throat choking off the little air he was getting.

"You keep forgetting we are a king. We are a God. Our body is to be worshipped by others, not the other way around. You've let him call you Kasander for too long. You're beginning to believe him.

"Let me remind you of what he is."

As the man above him spoke, his face twisted and became much thinner and smaller, twisted in sick pleasure.

The hands around his neck refused to give as the man plunged deep into his body. Pain he'd forgotten ripped through him, causing him to arch and twist beneath the heavy form on top of him. His back burned from the deep gashes that crisscrossed it as he was ground into the carpet. He wanted to scream, but only a tiny whisper escaped.

The man cackled wickedly. "That's it, God-King. Give me everything you have."

He scratched at the man's face, trying to get him to release his unrelenting grip. Red gashes formed down the cheek. Instead of screaming and letting go, he simply rammed himself harder into Kasander's body.

"Such sweet torment. Give it all to me, God-King. Give it to me. Repent before your father and I'll let you return to your mother," the cruel voice kept up its harsh words of torment and repentance.

He looked up at the ugliest soul he'd ever seen and spit his hatred out in a glob of phlegm.

"NEVER!" He screamed. It only came out as a mutilated whimper.

The world swam darkly before him as a new pain slammed its way through him. He reached down and clawed at the fingers that were clamped on his nipple. The more he pulled to release the nails, the worse the pain got.

Hard marble pressed against his cheek as the booted foot slammed against his chest again. Pain blossomed across his chest as a fragile cracking sound reached his ears. He could no longer contain the scream and gave his tormentor the sounds he had promised he would hear before he was done.

The whip fell one more time as his body jerked against the wood of the cross that held him up. It scraped his torn chest, pushing the boundaries of his pain.

"Admit your crimes!" a high pitched crazed voice commanded.

"I will admit nothing to you! I am a GOD!" he screamed.

Blood ran down his leg as the hand plunged into his body yet again, pulling another scream from him. The pain burned through him, setting his limbs to shaking. His voice was raspy from screaming. He prayed for it to finally end this time.

"The Gods have abandoned you, Fetim. Confess and I will end your pain quickly. Continue your resistance and I will make sure your pain will never end."

The young man barely older than himself finally pulled his fist from deep within his body and held the golden dragon key in his bloody hand. The red gore painted the boy's arm to his elbow.

"I might have failed to pull your sin from you, but you will never forget me, sweet thing."

He watched in horror as the gold key was plunged into his own chest. He begged the Gods to free him from the pain, but only the sound of the boy's laughter rang in his ears.

"Why would they save you, Fetim? You are their greatest embarrassment. And now… you are doomed to live your life as a fuck slave. Enjoy the rest of eternity."

The youth turned and left him alone, the Fallen Dragon key settled next to his heart.

"All the others you fought until the end. But you would give our body, our temple to that chattel? You want that?"

"No! Never! Please, save us! I promise I'll do better next time! I'll never let him touch us like that again. Don't let him hurt me that way! Please!"

He begged for his safety.

Golden eyes burned into him.

"I'll leave you to hang there a while longer, Kasander. Do not forget this lesson so quickly."

His only strength left him, abandoned him to the remembered pain that so many cruel men had shown him. There was nowhere to turn, he could never escape his anguish. The Gods would forever torment him. He screamed his pain and rage. He screamed his agony. He screamed his hope. He screamed until there was nothing left to scream about.

Kukuluth surveyed the destruction around him. Pieces of paper and splintered wood littered the floor, covering its dark surface with debris. Glittering glass reflected his broken image a thousand times. Crimson bed hangings had been torn down and cut into a hundred little pieces. On top of that pillow feathers and bed fluff lay like snow.

In the center of the destruction, upon a maimed carpet of red, stood a solitary, pale figure with its back to him. The crimson head turned as the door closed.

"Ah, so you finally decided to come back to me."

Kasander's voice had a decidedly oily quality that Kukuluth didn't like. He watched as Kasander turned to face him. Golden eyes burned with a cruelty Kukuluth had never seen in them before.

"Kasander, would you like-" Kukuluth began to cross the room to his obviously demented slave.

An unexpectedly quick movement of Kasander's hand caught Kukuluth by surprise. He barely dodged the silver blade that whirled by his head.

"Ah, ah, ah," Kasander chided as he wiggled his finger back and forth in admonishment. "You didn't think you could come back smelling like him again and expect me to just forgive you, did you?"

Before he could reply, the next blade was thrown. He was ready this time, and moved out of its path. It thudded soundly into the wooden door behind him. It was tempting to look, but instead he kept his attention focused on the lunatic in front of him.

"Did you think you could just fuck me and then leave like I'm some kind of cheap whore?"

A third blade was thrown. Fetim's aim was amazingly good for someone who hadn't thrown a knife in *this* lifetime.

"I was killing and fucking the best of them before you were born," the demented god-king growled. "And I'll do the same to you."

Fetim's last blade was released in a blur. Kukuluth sidestepped it again.

"Hn. I've found fucking and then killing works better for me," Kukuluth baited. "You might try it sometime, Fetim." He moved forward another step, waiting to see if Fetim had truly run out of ammunition. He was tired and wanted the soft, honey-eyed slave of yesterday back. But to do that, Fetim had to be dealt with.

"Yes," Fetim chuckled darkly, "but I think you'd enjoy that far too much, runt. I'd much rather sate myself on your bloody corpse."

Kasander's right hand moved distractingly, as his left flung three razor-sharp fighting stars. The first passed by Kukuluth's head, the second nicked his left arm, and the third he batted away with a carefully placed swat, silently thanking Tabris for retying his bracers on this morning.

"Now what? You're out of things to throw and…" Kukuluth allowed his eyes to wander knowingly down Kasander's naked form. "…you don't seem to have a place to carry any more."

Kukuluth looked into the cunning golden eyes of his opponent, and knew the battle wasn't won. Fetim simply stood before him, empty handed, and smiled.

"It is such a pleasure to finally have a worthy foe," Fetim purred darkly. "Too bad you were born in the wrong century. I could have used a man like you."

Kasander suddenly turned and ran for a table behind him. Kukuluth watched, stunned. Fetim hadn't relayed his movements; he'd just suddenly been in motion. Kukuluth responded in kind, but stopped short as a nasty-looking blade slashed at his face.

Fetim dropped into a crouched warrior's stance, and began to circle, looking for an opening.

Kukuluth watched Fetim's graceful dance for a moment, reveling in the sure, smooth movements. It would be so easy to answer Fetim's challenge with a blade of his own. But he knew that in the end, Fetim didn't have a chance of winning. The blade Fetim carried wasn't ensorcelled and would only do him minor damage. He, meanwhile, could easily kill the man fighting him.

He could already see the horror on his brother's face. He could feel his father's disappointment as acutely as if it had already happened.

No, he would have to simply defend until Fetim made a mistake.

He followed Fetim's suit. Quickly enough, the blade flashed in, trying to bite his exposed flesh. He blocked the blow. Another quickly followed. For each blow he fended off, there always seemed to be another to follow it.

But slowly, Kasander's body began to fail Fetim. Fetim's attacks became slower, and his defense sloppier. Finally, Kukuluth grabbed Fetim's extended wrist, lifted his opponent off the floor and threw him across the room.

Fetim's knife clattered out of his hand as he landed amidst the trash.

Kukuluth crossed the room in the blink of an eye, grabbed the knife in one hand and his slave in the other.

Fetim still seemed dazed, and only feebly tried to remove the hand around his throat.

Kukuluth dropped the god-king on the patchy carpet in the middle of the room. He placed his foot on the coughing man's back and pushed Fetim down until his forehead rested against the floor.

With a single command Kasander's collar, wrist and ankle restraints were all connected by a thin golden chain.

He searched the room briefly, ignoring Fetim's outraged screams. Without announcing his intentions he shoved a pair of his balled up socks into the offending orifice and walked away.

He lapped the room twice trying to gain control of his rage. He could understand Fetim's appearance, though he had hoped he'd have a little more time with his angel before he returned. On some level, he could even understand that Fetim hated him almost as much as he hated the Gods. But the destruction. He had never imagined he would do this. He wanted nothing more than to beat Fetim until he was afraid of ever returning. He clenched his fists and fought the overwhelming need to torment the man kneeling on the ruined rug.

Finally, he approached the still raging Fetim. Fetim's anticipation of their next confrontation did not go unnoticed. He crouched down in front of the huddled form and gently ran his fingers through the silken red strands.

He sighed heavily, releasing his anger to the Gods. "Kasander, what am I going to do with you?" he asked quietly. He tugged on the crimson locks gently.

"This can't keep happening every time I leave the room."

Kukuluth tipped his head at the muffled reply.

"Yes, I did leave last night. You were sleeping, and I was not. And yes, I spent it with someone else, but not in the way you mean. It was simply companionship.

"A part of me is appeased by your jealousy, but it cannot continue. I cannot keep coming back to your scorn and anger. What I was doing isn't the point, little one. The thing you must try to remember, even though I leave, it is *you* I keep coming back to. It is a precious gift you give me, always being here when I return. Never in my adult life has anyone been waiting for me when I returned home.

"As long as you are here, I will continue to return to you. What more could anyone ask for, little one? Hmm?"

Fetim's angry voice had been silenced by his words, and he left his slave to think upon the words he had spoken truthfully.

Now he had to deal with the disaster in the room. He wasn't even sure it could be made livable today.