* * *

When I awaken, I am facing the night sky. The stars are magnificent. In Arkine, stars aren't as visible. There was too much industrialization. I was in awe. But suddenly I can't see them anymore because Jerodian is standing over me. He is naked, and his genitals sway above my head. My eyes widen. The ceremony. The seeding. The-

The feelings rush through me with urgency. I am suddenly scared. Terrified. Angry. I begin to tug at my restraints. I can only assume I had been sleeping for hours because in front of me laid a glass box that had sweat and steam marks made from a human of my size. They must have already feasted. The crowd of Kayonese onlookers was chanting so loud my ears rang. Jerodian kneels next to my head.

"I am a faithful man. I truly am. However, I want you to know that fucking you is not just for the pleasure of the gods. I will fuck you harder than you have ever been fucked. I will tear you open so that you will know the strength of Jerodian."

"Speaking in the third person is a sign of misplaced arrogance." I eye his cock with a smirk. I might as well do some damage to his ego. In truth, it isn't small. But for the size of him, it wasn't proportional. I hold back a laugh.

"Do not think petty remarks will make my performance less impressive. I will not make this pleasurable for you. I might have if you were submissive."

Submissive. I wanted to yell. I was neither a top nor bottom. I like it in me as much as I liked it in someone else. Adam was a top, but he let me have my fun sometimes. And fun I had. So much fun. But this wouldn't be fun. This would be rape. I suddenly remember that fact. I quickly look around. There is no oil in sight. No lube. Panic. I know that they used blood with- before I could conclude my thoughts, sharp pain soars through my body. The carving. Jerodian is not the carver. It is an older woman. She cuts into me without mercy. I scream. She doesn't even wince at my pain. I feel the blood trickle down my sides and stomach. She is carving a bit below the left side of my collar bone. It will leave a scar like a badge. It takes the women half an hour to finish. My body refuses to blackout. I feel sweat, blood, and tears mix together. When the cutting stops, I realize that there had been a few other women collecting my spilled blood. It is now in a golden goblet. Jerodian dismisses the women and takes a long sip. I want to vomit. He does not look upset by the taste. The Lord has appeared behind Jerodian and is handed the cup and also takes a sip. He, too, looks at if he was drinking a century aged wine. These people are animals. The Lord steps away, and Jerodian's eyes dart to me. Well, a part of me. My legs are spread apart by two burly men and tied to a contraption that looked like it was built for raping- or childbirth. I am immobile. Even my torso is strapped down. I can't move at all. I am hopeless. This is going to happen and can do nothing about it.

Now, I wish I felt nothing. I wish I could go back a few hours ago and keep that apathy bottled up. I feel my heart beating all too human-like. I feel the burn of emotions in my eyes. I see Adam looking down at me, disgusted. I know this isn't my fault, but for some reason, it feels like it is. Maybe I'm not fighting hard enough...maybe I am letting this happen? Maybe it is all my fault.

To my horrific suspicion, Jerodian takes the goblet of blood and pours out some on his cock that is already erect and then some on me. It was no longer warm. The chill sends goosebumps spiraling through my body. My hairs on my legs spike up. And then it begins. It happens in flashes.

He shoves himself inside me. I scream in pain. Friction is met with more friction. Cold blood is met with warm blood. Then, more warmth. It was only a few minutes until Jerodian can't hold it anymore. I think it's finally over when I remember it's not. The Lord approaches me. He was almost- almost gentle. He too did not last long. When he opens his eyes, he sees tears pouring down the side of my face, and my body shivering. For a second, I see the horror in his eyes. But Kayonese eyes are so dark, it is impossible to know for sure.

I don't remember much of what happens next. I am taken to a tiny tent, and there, I was left on a pile of furs. I am still shaking and crying. I feel like a young boy, naïve with youth. I sleep for an entire day.

* * *

When I open my eyes, there are two young Tenders. This time, boys. They are inspecting the freshly carved sun on my chest. They clean it, and they don't hold back when I yelped in pain. I feel raw. Everywhere. The boys look to be about the same age, fifteen at most. I highly doubt they have been adequately trained in medical care. But it is better than nothing, I suppose.

If I'm being honest and frankly, it hurts to admit it, all I want is to be hugged. I feel silly for even thinking about it. I want to be comforted and held. Held, so that no one can harm me anymore. But it is of no use dwelling on the desire. It isn't going to happen.

I suddenly realize that I'm alive. Meaning, I thought I was going to be killed after the ceremony. Why hadn't they killed me? I remember the soldiers. The Hide. Shit.

When the Tenders leave, I sit up slowly and try to move, but I find that I am still chained. Damaged and broken, I was already immobile enough without goddamn chains. My wrists are raw from friction, and so are other places. I was just all-around raw and fresh with stinging pain that sends my mind spiraling into the darkest of places. I was completely alone. I was in a land that was not my own, with people who were not my kind, and- I was completely alone. The tears return. They are silent but flow heavily. When the salty water hit my open cuts, I swear and cry even more.

"A man does not cry. You make me believe that the gods are mocking me. To send a coward as a gift?" Jerodian appears seemingly out of nowhere. His words are filled with wrath. I don't understand such hatred. What had I done?

"Do you desire freedom from Kayon?"

A trick? A sincere question? I can't make out his intention. His tone is too dark and blank.

"I have been informed that Arkine has lost the war. Finlur has surrendered to Cronad. So you can go. But your home is now the Island of Death." A deep chuckle flows from his throat. Another sound, perhaps the opposite of a laugh, comes out of mine.

So this was it, then? Arkine and Viv, the two lands of Finlur, were no longer in power. Or- existence, it would seem. But how can that be? They had a stronger and more organized military than Cronad. We were better. Stronger. We were the moral side-

"I do not believe you."

Jerodian almost has a laughing fit.

"Boy, you can believe whatever you'd like, but there is only one truth."

It isn't true. Finlur is stronger than Cronad. Besides, Arkine and Viv would never submit to the Cronad rulers.

But what if- my mind is racing. I had not let myself think about the fact that it may as well be true. In truth, it doesn't make a difference to me. My plan is to reach Haltur. I would never be able to cross to Finlur. I have no money even to attempt to do so. To be really honest, it doesn't matter that Finlur is gone. I have nothing there. But it was my home and I can’t deny that as much as I would like to.

Jerodian has left, and I lay in a tent that is too hot for someone who is most likely running a fever. I try to look at the sun engraved on my chest, but I can only catch a glimpse of red, swollen skin. 


Close your eyes and feel the pain of it. Feel the agony. Breathe in the suffering. Accept the burning darkness of your damp eyes. And let go of how you want to feel.


 I used to be able to think my way out of anything. I had those kinds of skills. Sneaky. Sly. It wasn’t great to possess such attributes as a kid. I was nothing but trouble. The House school wasn’t a fan of me. The teachers all said the same thing. I was too smart for my own good. I needed to learn how to control my impulses. And I needed to stop being a smartass. It was fine when I got older because I did most of my rebelling outside of school. I was a messy teen. I mean, more than average messy. 

I had sex for the first time when I was fifteen. A girl. She was pretty. But pretty doesn’t help if you don’t find women attractive. I somehow managed to get it up and perform as well as any virgin could. After that, she became my girlfriend. Her name was Angy. Not Angela as I had assumed. Her given name was Angy. I really hated that. I would rant about how much it bothered me to my friend until he told me to shut up and kissed me. It wasn’t romantic. Purely sexual. I was surprised by how easy it was to get hard. Everything else came naturally.

 It turns out, Angy’s name was just an excuse to get pissed off at her. I had created tension because the true tension was that I was gay. After my first time with a guy, I awakened and became pretty slutty.

My thoughts are interrupted by horns blowing. Sounds of panic spreads through the Kayon village. Sounds of metal clashing against metal. I try to move to no avail. Kayon is being attacked and I was in the middle of it. From the flap of the tent, I see bodies flying. Limbs. Blood. Smoke. Screams of pain and sorrow. Yelling and cursing of a foreign language. And then after what seems like an entire day, silence. I hear a deep and smooth voice call out.

"We have slaughtered the Kayon bastards. Take the women." 

The accent is familiar. I had never heard it in person but I was all too familiar with the videos they starred in. I wonder why my tent had remained untouched. It is actually quite baffling. I speak too soon because right after that, two men whip open the tent flaps. They freeze when they see me. 

"You are not Kayonese."

It wasn’t a question, but I nod. The taller one, with a horrifically scarred face, eyes me from top to bottom. I had forgotten that I naked. My cheeks burn. He catches on to the situation. 

"Finlurian soldier. You were captured by these savages? I see they harmed you. You will camp with us from now on."

I'm sure if he means to make me a slave. And so I asked him just that.

"No. We were not ordered to take Finlurian slaves. Just the Kayon woman. The petty nature of Cronad and Finlur is but an annoyance to us. Come." The man slams an ax against my chains to free me. When the shorter one realizes I can't stand, he lifts me up and lets me lean against his shoulder. Then, I leave the tent with the two Linovian soldiers.