Seventeen: Your Precious Face 

Warning: Short Mature Scene

The creature roars in displeasure.  

“In my home!” It bellows, swinging its claws around and charging at the group. Layre leaps gracefully away, and Viessa jabs its foot with her sword. Disgusting dark red blood shoots from its foot, and Layre watches grimly as Anima runs to the corner of the clearing, trying to best to not gag.  

Mageus swiftly makes it to the other side of the creature, stabbing its other foot.  

“Layre, aim for its neck!” Viessa calls, and Layre gives her a curt nod. The plan was understood with little words; Mageus and Viessa would keep it distracted while Layre climbed the wall of the cave the best he could. From a higher angle, Layre could sink his blade deep into the creature’s neck.  

So, he made way to the cavern wall. He forced his foot into a small crevice and hoisted himself a foot or two from the floor. It reminded him fondly of climbing the red oak, falling and seeing his friends laugh at him. Though it had hurt, he would not trade that memory for the world.  

A fire in his heart burns bright, and he hoists himself above the creature. The grasp he has on the wall is slippery, and his hands are bleeding beneath the tough rock. He was bound to fall if he did not drop onto the monster soon. Down on the ground, Viessa and Mageus were running circles around it, leaving small slices along its body.  

The monster had managed to hit Mageus with its claws, but the Demi-God healed over in an instant.  

“Now!” Viessa screamed, and Layre leapt from the spot on the wall. With his sword outstretched over his head, and a fierce cry leaving his mouth, he fell through the air. This plan was going to work! He lined up his sharpened sword with the monster’s vulnerable neck, ready to slice through his skin and see the horrid, vile blood again.  

“Layre, watch out!” Mageus cries as the monster swings around at the most unfortunate time, slamming Layre down into the cave floor. His claws swipe angrily across Layre’s face, and blood spews about the cavern floor. Layre hits the ground with a deafening thud, and his body cries out in an instant, dreadful pain. He whimpers, throwing his hand up to his face. He can feel that his left ear has been sliced to shreds, and his eye on that side too is done for. His lips are sliced open, and the edge of his nose has been ripped.  

It falls silent for a moment, and Layre is unsure of what has happened. He looks around frantically, unable to see much due to the blood in his eyes.  

“How dare you!” He hears Mageus’ voice boom loudly, desperate and furious, and the room is cast over with a brilliant light, purple and glimmering like his eyes. The cave shakes, trembling in horror at the divine presence. Mageus has transformed; he is now larger than the monster, glowing and powerful.  

“Too bright!” The monster screams and trembles, fearing for its feeble life. “Do not hurt!” It cries.  

Mageus does not listen. He draws up his sword, now large and proportionate to his new form, and draws it down. The cavern is painted red, burning and sizzling from the cursed blood of the monster’s deformed body. Mageus stands, shaking and covered in it. He lifts Layre’s body and holds him close to his chest. Layre feels entirely too small in the Godly beings’ hands, but he looks up at him anyway.  

“Your precious face.” Mageus grieves. “He has sliced it all up.” 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

“Oh, dear.” Mageus mumbles, taking extreme care when handling Layre’s new face wounds. He has stitched up as much as he could, but the resulting sight is not pretty. Layre’s face is swollen, red, and angry. The eye that was harmed is still functional, but Layre cannot see clearly from it anymore, and the iris has clouded and faded over. His ear is mostly gone, his lips were shredded, and his nose was missing a small chunk of skin.  

“Still as handsome as ever.” Viessa smiles, pulling out a pocket mirror for Layre to hold. Layre lets out a loud groan when he sees himself. 

“I’m hideous.” Layre scowls, taking in his appearance.  

Mageus frowns, shaking his head.  

“Nothing in this dark, cruel world could make you hideous, my dear.” Viessa pretends to throw up when she hears this.  

They had made it back through the cavern after the monster was dead, and they had successfully secured the Sword of Sapphirus. It was night when the re-emerged through the cavern, so they set up their tents a few miles from the cave mouth. In the morning, they would journey to the Vatou border, where they would attempt to cross the divine energy field.  

Once Anima was done setting up the tents, she began a small fire. They each shared some of the dried meat and fruits they brought along, and Layre’s stomach ached for a real meal soon. He missed his father’s home-cooking, and he missed the comfort of the red oaks. He hoped soon that he could return to Iyelion.  

Layre is laying in his and Mageus’ tent already when Mageus returns with a potion.  

“It is from Anima. She said it will remove the swelling and help return your original facial structure.” Mageus sinks to the ground, handing over the bright golden potion.  

“There truly is a potion for everything.” Layre laughs, taking a swig of the bitter mixture. 

“It will not be the same. Your face, I mean.” Mageus sighs, latching the front of the tent closed. He gets himself under the blankets and next to Layre, pressing up against his side with a hand lazily draped over his chest. “I should have--” 

“Stop.” Layre orders between sips. “Don’t start with that again. I can live with a few scars.”  

Mageus just nods, tucking his head beneath Layre’s chin.  

“Well, good then. I find them hot.” Mageus rubs his hand across Layre’s chest, feeling daring. 

The swelling in Layre’s face dramatically decreases once the potion is in his system, and Mageus sees that the scars are, in fact, very hot on him. There’s one across his eye, on his lip, his ear, and just beneath his nose. They made him look like a true Iyelion warrior; one straight from Mageus’ fantasies. 

“You know we must talk about what happened in the cavern. What was with the light, and how did you get so tall?” Layre asks, derailing the suggestive conversation. Mageus lets out a groan. 

“Can we just speak on it tomorrow? I wish to forget it all tonight while I have you in my arms.”  

Layre falls silent, offering Mageus a gentle stare.  

“Fine but promise me we will speak of it.”  

Mageus bites his lip, eyes dangerous. “I promise.” 

They lay in silence for a while, with Mageus pressed up against Layre, head resting gently on his chest and leg thrown over his torso. Mageus’ white hair is draped about, messy and tangled. Layre lifts his fingers, tightening them around a handful of strands. He runs his fingers through it, giving it a teasing tug.  

The silence is getting thick now, and Layre feels Mageus grow firm against his leg.  

“I am sorry.” He whispers in shame. “It will go away.” 

“No... it’s fine.” Layre gulps, feeling himself have the same troubles start to present themselves. 

Mageus lifts his head, an uncertainty in his eyes. The last time he offered this, Layre denied it. He did not want to move without Layre’s permission.  

“Do you want... me to do more?” Mageus asks, gentle and soft. 

“I just can’t believe you... want to when I look like this.” Layre gestures to his face with his hand, and Mageus lets out a sigh. He leans forward, connecting their lips into a hungry kiss. He parts their lips, dipping his tongue into Layre’s mouth. A gentle moan sounds in the tent. Mageus feels the effect of the noise ripple throughout his body. 

“Shh, dear.” Mageus breaks the kiss to whisper. “You must be quiet.” 

Mageus makes quick work of the man’s tunic. He unbuttons it, pushing it aside. He trails his explorative fingers across the hot, tan skin of the mortal. Layre’s chest heaves up and down, and small, whimpers arise from his throat. Mageus sits upright, straddling him and letting Layre feel just how much he wanted him.  

“Can I?” Mageus hovers his hand above Layre’s crotch. Layre stares at him through lustful, cloudy eyes. He nods, once, fluttery and shy.  

Layre bites down hard as a sound threatens to escape his mouth. Mageus had slid his hand beneath the man’s pants and taken hold of his base. He gave it smooth, fast strokes. It was an entirely new feeling for Layre, and it was quick to overwhelm him. 

A continuous wave of pleasure soared through his body as Mageus went fast and faster, and soon, Layre threw his head back, unable to keep the moan from leaving his lips. His body trembled and shook as it came down from a high, he had never experienced before. His pupils, sleepy and dilated, rest on Mageus. There is a calm, loving expression left in the Demi-God's eyes; the lust has crumbled away. 

“Sorry...” Layre stuttered, out of breath and exhausted already. “I didn’t mean to...” 

Layre goes to reach for the drawstring of Mageus’ pants, but Mageus shakes his head.  

“No, just sleep now. It’s alright.” He lands a kiss on Layre’s forehead. Mageus takes his shirt and wipes away the mess, and Layre is asleep, curled up to his body before he can even say goodnight properly.