BurgerSlave/AKindlyLove
A Kindly Love
The chamber of the Southern Deliberative echoed with the sounds of the general’s heavy footfalls. Everywhere he went, mortal servants flung themselves to the ground, pressing their foreheads to the polished marble floor in shows of obeisance. Terrestrial Exalted paused and bowed low as he passed. He flung open the heavy orichalcum doors to the Chamber of Heaven, and all eyes turned to him.
“The Fair Folk are defeated!” he proclaimed, his deep voice booming through the chamber. He lifted a hand, showing the necklace that glittered in his hand. “I have taken this from the body of their leader, Shimmering Fancy, whom I executed personally. They will trouble our satrapies no longer!”
He was met with resounding applause from his peers. The Lunar Exalts bellowed their approval, while the Sidereals nodded sagely. They had predicted the general’s victory over their enemies. Their auguries were never wrong. As the Solars cheered and the High Priest of the Sun declared a feast-day in his honor, the general’s piercing gaze sought out the one face in the Night Circle that mattered.
There she was. Her cool gaze met his, and her wine-dark lips curved into a smile.
The feast was a grand thing indeed. The general indulged in the sweetmeats, the intoxicants, and blood sports with his Lunar compatriots. As the fires burned low and the Five Maidens cast their gaze upon Creation, companions began drifting off in twos and threes for the rest of the evening’s festivities. Venus was ascendant. It was an auspicious night for romance. It was then that she took her leave. She had not spoken a single word to him all night long. Grinning, the general followed. He had waited long for this moment.
He cornered her in a corner of the garden secluded by broad lilacs. He loomed over her, one hand leaning his weight casually against the glassine walls. The other lazily swung the faerie’s pendant around his index finger. She looked fragile compared to him, and yet she was the far deadlier of the two. Mortal women might have felt caged by his bulk, but this position exposed him to her, should she choose to take his life.
“I took this for you, my love,” he said.
She smiled that smile of hers. “Did you, indeed? Not for the mortals who were ravaged by the Fair Folk? Not for the Exalts who march to your banner? Not for the Unconquered Sun, who Chose you to be His champion?”
The general leaned closer. “Do not trifle with me, my love,” he growled. Drugs, combat, and the Southern night air had heightened his arousal to a fever pitch. “I have courted you for a century. I have starved nations to lavish gifts upon you. I have slaughtered whole armies in your name. I have made gods suffer for your pleasure.” He tossed the trinket up, where it caught Luna’s light for a split second. He caught it and crushed it in his hand. “You will not deny me this night.”
They fought, and though she was the craftier, he was the stronger combatant. Finally, he wore her down. Without even straining, he tore away the clothing she wore, rent the steel of his armor with his bare hands, and plunged himself deep into her. As he savaged her, the muffled screams she howled into his palm were sweet music to his ears, for he loved her more than life, more than riches or glory, more than the Unconquered Sun Himself...
Steadfast pitched forward, sucking in a breath of air. Sweat poured off his skin, and his heart hammered painfully against his ribs. He was trembling. His arousal was an agonizing ache in his trousers. The dreams had never been so vivid, so real before. Nor had they so thoroughly made his skin crawl with loathing. The sky had faded from black to gray. It would be morning soon.
I used to be that man, Stead thought inwardly as he started to calm. This power I carry, it belonged to him. Always before, the dreams had been of battle and glory. Never had he dreamed of such indulgences. For the first time in his life, Stead found himself wondering if the sutras were not correct. Perhaps he was a demon clothed in flesh.
Steadfast was not a gentle man. He was not ashamed of the vices he enjoyed. Booze, hashish, women... he did not deny that he had great appetites. But he had never killed anyone who did not deserve it. He had never stolen from somebody who could not do without what was taken. He had never forced himself upon a woman. He did not consider himself a virtuous man, but even he had lines he did not cross.
Buscharine murmured in her sleep. Stead’s eyes turned upon her. Even now, weary with travel and gritty from the sandstorm, she was beautiful. He admired the graceful curves of her body, the way her chest rose and fall with her deep, even breathing. They had flirted back and forth since meeting, certainly. What couple didn’t? Even so, when they camped, they slept in separate bedrolls. And though Stead paid well for companionship in the cities they visited, it was her body he yearned to touch, to own. He longed to hear her cry his name, to feel her enfold him. Just thinking about it made his trousers tighten painfully again.
She’s asleep. If I were fast enough, I could jump her and have her under me before she woke...
Steadfast shook his head. Then, he got to his feet and hurried to the oasis. He didn’t even bother to undress as he plunged fully clothed into the chilly water. He shook the water from his shaggy head, gritting his teeth. The camels regarded him curiously as he forced himself to calm down.
How could he have even considered that? Was it true, what the sutras said? That his power would overwhelm him and turn him into a monster with no consideration for the atrocities he perpetrated on others?
“Unconquered Sun,” he implored quietly. “I have never prayed to anyone before. The gods never had a care for me before You Chose me. But if You hear the prayers of Your children, then I beg You... don’t let me become a monster. And if I must, then let me end my life with dignity. I don’t want to become like those who came before me. I want to make You proud of me.” Emotion overwhelmed Stead as he sank to his knees in the oasis. “I want to make her proud of me, too.”
Light danced off the water, and Stead looked down. His face was inches from his own reflection. As the sky reddened in the East, he could see the glitter of gold on his forehead. “I have Chosen you, my champion, for you are worthy,” his own reflection said to him. “For I know that you will not permit the excesses of your previous incarnations taint your virtue in this lifetime. Do not despair, my son. You are not bound by the fate of your forbears. You are a free man, free to choose your own path. I lay but one charge upon you. Go forth and conquer our enemies in My name. Return hope to this world. Restore My glory to the people of Creation.”
The face of the Sun crested the Eastern horizon, and Steadfast beheld his Caste Mark as the light of the dawn enveloped him.
As Bucharine stirred, Steadfast was sitting nearby, studying her, puffing his pipe with a thoughtful expression on his face. He smiled as she awoke. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” she responded. Then, she cocked her head to one side. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”
Steadfast actually blushed. He was no good at this. But he wanted to do it the right way. “I found something I thought you might like,” he said. He had found fireblossoms growing by the oasis, and he had picked one of the brilliant red-gold flowers. He produced it from behind his back and offered it to her. Bucharine blinked as she accepted it. “Why did you do that?” she asked.
Stead’s blush deepened. “For you,” he said, perhaps more gruffly than he meant. And with that, he rose and began preparing their breakfast.
