Archive of Our Own ^beta

A bead of sweat rolled down Phainon’s cheek as he was holding a bundle of wheat, freshly severed from the ground with his sickle. They should have been fresh, the kernels round and plump in their sheaths. But the stalks he was holding were withered and scant. 

He looked around him, despair settling into his bones.

Acres and acres of wheat were in a similar state to the bundle he just picked — their stems were bowed and splintered, and the ground beneath them was covered in a network of deep cracks. 

Aedes Elysiae was usually abundant, fields of gold ebbing and flowing with the wind. This harvest season, however, was a rough one for the small seaside village. Their crop produced a poor yield with the unexpected heatwaves drying up the soil and stunting the wheat.

“It’s been like this for a month now…”
A familiar voice came from beside him, light like the ringing of a wind chime in the gentle breeze.

“Cyrene!”
He perked up, the exhaustion evaporating off his skin with the welcome distraction of a friend.

“Heehee, were you working so hard that you didn’t notice me?”
She stood on the tips of her toes, hand reaching as high as it could go. When she realized she barely reached Phainon’s collarbone, her lips curled up into a pout.

Phainon laughed heartily, before bending downwards to let Cyrene give his snow-white hair soft, languid strokes.

“There, there. You should take a break now, the priests of Oronyx are looking for us.”

“Aw, I used to be able to do this without a sweat… Oh, where does the time go?”
She retracted her hand and placed it on the side of her cheek, a sigh escaping her lips.

“Hm? You said someone was looking for us?”
Phainon tilted his head.

He had long known that Cyrene and him were a special sort, bleeding glittering gold instead of the normal red that his mother and father, or the other residents of the village did. This did little to change the villagers’ perception of the two of them, though, as they were welcomed just like anyone else would be. 

However, he could tell that the outsiders that came into the village every now and then took special interest in that trait of theirs. Chrysos Heirs, they would call them. It was a name that seemed like it was beckoning fate itself.

“Yep~ They said they had something important to tell us. Your parents are there, too. We should meet them in the Sacrament Courtyard.”
Cyrene raised her index finger while talking in a matter-of-fact way.

“Oh, then we gotta get there right now!”
Phainon set down his sickle onto a stone fence, precariously balancing it before walking towards the Sacrament Courtyard.
“What are you waiting for? Let’s… go?”

“Um, Phainon!”
Cyrene managed to grab him by the hem of his linen sleeve, just as he was about to pass by her. 

Phainon was taken aback by the sharp urgency in her voice, which was unlike herself. She was always the picture of serenity, but right now, her eyes crinkled in worry.
“Cyrene...? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…”
She tucked her hands behind her back as if she was hesitant to say what’s on her mind. Rocking back and forth on her heels, she finally spoke up.
“Be careful, okay? I was a little curious, and I did a divination.”

“Oh? And what did the cards say this time?”
Phainon put his hand on his hip. It was a posture he learned to assume in order to feign confidence.

“The cards said that we’ll have an unlikely encounter soon. Whatever it may be, I pray for Oronyx’s blessing to be with us…” 
Cyrene clasped her hands in fervent prayer, before looking up again at Phainon. He was visibly unperturbed by this news. In fact, the corners of his lips shifted ever so slightly upwards at her words.

“Mhm, I got it. Then we should both be careful.”

“Yeah, no matter what happens… Let’s keep each other safe.”

They gave each other an understanding nod as they sprinted towards the courtyard, not knowing what kind of fate would await them.

The wind whistled in his ears as he ran past the golden fields. The ever-present smell of wheat and the sun served as a small anchor to ease his excitement as he arrived at the Sacrament Courtyard.

It wasn’t that Phainon didn’t worry about what’s to come. It’s that this mind-numbingly idyllic life left him with no chances to use the sword work he had been earnestly practicing, save for making his grip strength stronger when he had to go fishing with his father.

“Mom, dad, I’m… here…”
Phainon’s voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the large open space for his parents, and thankfully, they were there safe and sound, both gathered around the priest sitting on the kline, along with various village elders.

“Huh? W-what’s all this about..?”
He instinctively stepped forward, his brain running at a million meters. This kind of thing only happened once a year, when it was time for the grand festivals and harvests praising Oronyx for another year of protection over their little town. This time, however, his parents in particular were involved. What would they want with them?

“Phainon, dear…”
His mother Audata spoke up, a shakiness wracking her normally jovial tone of voice.

“Let us explain.”
The man sitting on the kline, clothed in white garb with fine golden embroidery spoke up. He was likely to be a chief priest.

“We are to perform the ritual for Georios’ blessing. As you already know, the land is currently plagued with a famine, and the people are struggling to eat and harvest enough to export in the face of poor yield.”

“However, there is one more thing we are missing. We need to offer up a certain amount of golden blood in order to gain the attention of the gods. To put it in terms you two would be more familiar with, it would be... A Chrysos Heir.”

Phainon drew in a long breath, letting the air fill his lungs to their maximum capacity. Cyrene’s divination was right again.

Cyrene looked down at her clasped hands, before bravely speaking.
“I understand. I’ll do it.”

“Are you serious, Cyrene?! You don’t need to step in, I’ll be the one to do it.”
Phainon blocked her way with his hand. He couldn’t put Cyrene through something like this, or else he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.
“They just need my blood, right? That’s easy enough.”

“But what if you’ll get put in danger?"
Cyrene insisted. Even if she was the shorter one of the two, she was always more mature than he was. 
"It won’t sit right with me. Let me offer mine.”

Phainon smiled and returned the gesture he had gotten from Cyrene earlier — a head pat.
“You said before that the Earth Titan is known to be a gentle and benevolent god, right? If that’s the case, then there’s no reason to be scared!”

He beamed a bright smile.

“That is not a bad suggestion at all. We need guards for the journey anyway, and seeing as Phainon here is the finest warrior in this village, that would be killing two birds with one stone.”

One of the village elders interjected.

“Then it’s decided,” the priest on the kline said. “Phainon, you will come with us.”

His father Hieronymus had already taken Phainon’s sword with him when they were called, it seemed. Phainon opened his palms, and Hieronymus placed his sword within his outstretched hands.

“Please, come back safe, Phainon.” Audata wrapped her arms around Phainon’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“May Oronyx’s blessing be with you.” Hieronymus followed suit, also joining the two of them in their goodbyes.

“Mom, Dad… It’s okay, I’ll be back before you know it.”
He felt a lump form in his throat and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He had to inhale deeply again in order to stop himself from crying then and there.

Finally, he turned to Cyrene, who had a crestfallen look on her face.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t put you in danger like that.” He said apologetically.

She shook her head.

“No, I understand. I’m happy you protected me. I’ll pray for your safe return. When you get back, there will be a feast waiting for you! I just know it.”

Her words were always so reassuring, even in the face of the unknown. 

The three soon left after that, hopefully to rest back at their homes. Phainon smiled to himself, his parents would definitely be the kind to stay up, unable to sleep because he hadn’t come home yet. He wished he could reassure them and Cyrene just a bit more as he watched their figures grow smaller until disappearing in the distance, but he was as clueless about this whole situation as they were.

As there were no temples dedicated to the Earth Titan within the town of Aedes Elysiae itself, they had to venture further south in order to find the nearest one. This would be his first time venturing outside on official business, then.

“We set out soon. Get yourself into clothes more suitable for travel.” The priest advised him as the gathering of elders scattered, making themselves at home in the courtyard with the cushions and benches scattered around the place. The calm before the incoming storm of their expedition towards the Earth Titan’s temple.

Phainon did as he was told, slipping into more robust clothes, as well as sandals that would actually hold up to traveling on foot. Last, but most certainly not least, he affixed the sheath of his sword to his belt. The weight of it on his side was a constant reminder that danger lurked on the path. 

It would be well worth it, though, if it meant that the village would be able to eat again and sell its beautiful produce to neighboring towns. He’d rather brave this little roadblock than see his loved ones go hungry. He told himself that as he helped load their remaining stores of wheat — the few that weren’t lodged or shriveled up — into the cart they were using to transport their ritualistic implements. Along with the wheat was a basket of juicy-looking pomegranates wrapped in fabric so that they wouldn’t be damaged by the bumps on the road in the journey ahead.

When they had set out, the sun was still hanging high in the sky. Now, the sky looked much more like a fresco, with meandering trails of yellow clouds blooming against a pink background peeking past the trees.

Phainon gasped in awe as he entered the temple at which the Earth Titan was worshipped. Tall, ornate pillars towered over him, and in front of him, piles of wheat, as well as the shiniest ruby red pomegranates from Aedes Elysiae were stacked. Fine tapestries, deep purple like a Dromas’ skin were draped underneath the offerings. Near them, jars of the most high quality greenish olive oil and big, round bunches of grapes sat as offerings on the mantle. No doubt, the olive oil and grapes were the fruit of the nearby towns who had gotten successful harvests thanks to the Earth Titan's blessings. It stung a little bit all the more, knowing how much produce like these could be used to ease the suffering of his fellow Aedes Elysians.

He was guided to the basin and given a dagger that looked like it had been crafted out of iridescent glass. He shifted the weapon around in the fading sunlight, and a myriad of colors danced around on its blade.

Phainon bit the inside of his cheek. The reality of the situation finally hit him. Such a small cut is nothing at all… He’d just have to take a little break from field work for a couple of days, he told himself.

He hesitantly looked to the chief priest, and all he was given in response was a nod.

‘So I’m supposed to do it now… Here goes nothing.’

With his trembling right hand, he quickly cut into his left palm. Phainon sucked in a breath through his teeth, the pain radiating from the cut.

A stream of ichor flowed downwards, dispersing into the waters of the basin and tinting it a glittering gold.

The priests began chanting their prayers towards the Earth Titan.

“O Georios, please lend your providence to the children of Aedes Elysiae once again. The wheat has lodged, and the soil has dried up. Her children are left with no food to fill their aching stomachs. We pray that you will be pleased with the last of our crop…”

Just then, Phainon felt it.

A chill went up his spine, and he instinctively rubbed at his arm with his non-injured hand, feeling bumps raised all over his skin.

The chirping of the songbirds outside ceased, and the cool, gentle breeze flowing through the temple was replaced with stagnant, hot air. This was clearly not a natural occurrence. 

The priests performing the ritual were stopped dead in the middle of their incantation, unsure of whether to continue. 

Just then, a deluge of horribly strong, burning hot winds swept through the temple.

The howling winds scattered the stalks of wheat and fruits across the floor, and crashed the jars of olive oil into the marble, breaking the glass into millions of pieces. The yellow-green shimmer spread across the floor, filling the air with a bitter, grassy scent. The winds carried with them a susurration filled with anger, as if the Titan that responded was furious that it was woken up from its slumber.

“Foolish humans.”

“Do you think a paltry offering like this is enough to please me?”

“That’s not Georios’ power…!” 
The priests were thrown into panic, they clutched onto their ceremonial robes in fear of getting swept away by the wind.

Phainon gritted his teeth, despite his brain screaming at him to run away. The debilitatingly hot temperature along with the fear made him plant his feet firmly into the ground. But against a Titan, he wasn’t even sure if he could run away in one piece.

“Hmm… not bad. I quite like the look in your eye.”

“It seems there are still those who can stand up to the fury of a god.”

Phainon gasped as blood red crystals started blooming at his feet. If he wasn’t already planted in place before, he was even more immobilized now. They crept up his legs, then restrained his sword and hands. Finally they grew to cover his face, rendering him unable to breathe.

The last thing he saw before his consciousness slipped from him was a sea of red.

When he woke up, he was in an unfamiliar place. 

His legs ached, he had no idea how long he had been passed out before this point. But it seemed he had been sitting on his knees this entire time.

A large, sprawling colosseum surrounded him. The sky was almost pitch-black, save for the flashes of white lightning periodically revealing the silhouettes of the clouds.

Clearly, he was not in the Earth Titan’s temple anymore. 

He looked behind him, sensing an imposing presence looming and watching him.

The same blood red crystals that trapped him earlier converged to form a resplendent throne, upon which a man lounged on it, crushing a pomegranate into his chalice with his gauntleted hands. If he led his eyes even further upwards, a large, golden lance was hanging in the sky, pointed directly at the throne.

“You are awake."

Phainon swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a miserable croak that fizzled out into the burning hot air.

“Of course, it’s natural you would be scared.”

The man stood up, swirling the pomegranate juice within his cup as he stepped down from the throne. Crystals bloomed with his every step.

On second glance, Phainon couldn’t really say that he was face-to-face with a man right now. He looked too ethereal, too spotless to be like him, a man made of flesh that toiled in the ground.

The way he spoke seemed less like he was projecting a voice, and more like he was talking directly to his soul. His body was too perfectly sculpted, his muscles ebbing and flowing into each other, flexing beautifully with each step. The red marks that seemed like they were gouged into his body glowed like the light of a forge. An aura of intense, unquenchable bloodlust emanated from him.

He was no man. This is… the Titan that appeared before them in the temple.

“The Strife Titan…”
Phainon managed to choke out.

“Hm…”

The god-king cocked his brow, seemingly displeased with the name Phainon called him just now.

Phainon jerked backwards at that reaction, only to realize that there was a sharp pressure on him right now. His arms were fixed to his back, set in place by the blood red crystals wrapping around his wrists like a bond.

“Let’s fix that.”

He reached out, taking Phainon’s trembling jaw in his hand and raising it to look up at him.

“I am Mydeimos, god-king of Castrum Kremnos. Now, tell me again. Who is talking to you right now?”

“M-Mydeimos…”
Phainon’s breath hitched as he spoke, the syllables coming out of his mouth in staccato.

“Good boy.”

Phainon’s face burned with embarrassment. Just by doing something so simple, he managed to get the Titan to compliment him… It made something inside his chest flutter. He couldn’t tell if it was his anxiousness, or something else entirely.

“You look like you have many questions.”

Mydeimos smiled at him like he was a little beetle, floundering around helplessly on its back after having been flipped over.

That look made Phainon’s gut curl.

Right, the Titan was waiting for a question. There’s nothing else to ask but this. He knew that, yet he stuttered as he said it out loud, as if even daring to utter a question would invite his wrath.
“W-why did you appear, even though we were making an offering to the Earth Titan?”

“I’m quite fond of these, you see.”

Mydeimos picked up another pomegranate from the basket. Phainon could see a little into it, and it seemed that the god had already enjoyed about half of the whole offering already. He must really like pomegranates…

“These are fine, indeed. Depending on how you act, human, I might be able to convince Georios to give you back your bounty. It would be a shame to see these pomegranate orchards decay.”

Phainon looked down at the cobblestone at his knees. 

So, whether or not Aedes Elysiae would be saved depended on how much he could humor this god? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of metal clanging to the ground in front of him. 

It was a beautifully crafted longsword. The hilt had spirals of gold and red on it, trailing into the grip. The blade was polished to an impeccable degree, so much so that it reflected his eyes when he held it up to his face.

“Spar with me, ‘best warrior of Aedes Elysiae’.”

Mydeimos scoffed at his own words, as if he was mocking him.

That made something flare up in Phainon’s gut. Even in front of a god, he wouldn’t let that pass…

He felt the crystals at his wrist crumble and fade into dust.

He picked the sword up from the ground, feeling its solid weight in his hands. Certainly a much better weapon than the crude blade he had brought with him from back home.

He charged towards Mydeimos with an ignited fervor in his blood.

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

An amused grin stretched across the god-king’s face.

“You are not like my people. They fight because it is in their blood, while you… fight to protect.”

The deafening sound of their swords colliding with each other echoed throughout the arena.

Phainon retreated backwards once it was apparent that he couldn’t make the titan budge. His gaze drifted up, following the red marks on his neck and up to his face…

Mydeimos looked unfazed. Bored, even. Like this was just a way to kill time for him.

“You talk like you have nothing to protect. What of your people?”
Phainon said as he circled the god-king, looking for an opening to strike, but he found none. Mydeimos’ gaze simply followed him as he walked.

“It is a warrior’s destiny to shed their blood for the glory of the nation. As their leader, I am there to command them to do so.”

Leaders are supposed to nourish the nation and shield them in times of catastrophe. This is what Phainon believed. However, he wasn’t surprised by Mydeimos’ answer, either. He had heard from merchants passing by Aedes Elysiae that the Kremnoans were a violent sort, taking spoils from the nations they ravaged to the ground in order to grow their own influence and power.

“I can’t say I agree with that,” Phainon said as he locked eyes with Mydeimos. 

Where there was the heat and anticipation of battle in his own eyes, he found none in the god-king’s. 

Was this really the feared Strife Titan? Forget having authority over war, he didn't even seem like he was capable of it.

Just then, Mydeimos moved lightning fast, appearing in front of him and about to strike with his sword. Phainon managed to block it in the nick of time.

A split second later, and Phainon reckoned there would have been a huge gash sliced across his chest.

“Not bad. For the lofty ideals you speak of, I expected you to do worse.”

Mydeimos continued his assault of strikes, each one fast and precise and aiming to wrench Phainon’s weapon from his hands. 

“I could throw that right back at you. Don’t you dare underestimate humans!”
The god-king’s attacks were going so fast that Phainon could only parry them back. One particular strike aimed for his shoulder, but Phainon managed to foresee it and send Mydeimos reeling backwards. 

He cheered internally. No time to waste while there’s an opening, Phainon thought, as he dived back in. This time, he was the one aiming to disarm Mydeimos.

The god-king laughed bitterly as he blocked Phainon’s strikes. He didn’t even know anymore if he was being mocked or actually putting him in a corner. He hoped it was the latter as he advanced, making Mydeimos step backward.

“Oh, poor thing, you’ve got it all wrong. It is precisely because I believe in the human spirit that I can trust my people in battle. I was once human too, after all.”

Phainon’s eyes widened at that revelation. 

He was once human too? Then, it was possible for humans… to ascend to godhood? They weren’t just arcane legends?

In the split second he was distracted, his weapon was knocked out of his hands and sent crashing to the ground. This caused him to lose his balance and land on his back.

“It seems this is as far as you’ll go. It was truly enjoyable to spar with you, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.”

The Titan stood with his legs on either side of Phainon’s waist. He placed the very tip of his sword underneath Phainon’s chin and lifted it.

Phainon shakily followed the motion as to not be wounded.

The light from the blazing lance in the sky made the edges of the god-king’s blond hair frame his face like a divine halo.

His earlier statements were proven wrong all too easily.

Well, he should be at least thankful he lasted that long by himself against a Titan with no formal combat training.

The tip of the sword broke his skin, a bead of gold dripping down from where it made contact with his throat.

‘I’mgoingtodieI’mgonnabekilledIhavetorun-’

Phainon tried to move to no avail. If he moved now, the sword would just impale itself further into his throat. His limbs seized up. He couldn’t do anything but screw his eyes shut.

Mydeimos lifted the sword, and with one great push, he impaled the sword...

…

Into the gap between the cobblestones beside Phainon’s head.

“Eh..?”

“Stand. It would be a complete and utter waste to send you to the River of Souls now.”

Mydeimos extended a hand to Phainon.

Pure fear was still coursing in his veins, so his limbs felt like lead as he took Mydeimos’ hand and forced himself up onto his feet.

Even after he had already gotten back up, Phainon noticed that Mydeimos didn’t let his hand go. Instead, he was lightly holding onto his fingertips like they would break if he gripped them any harder.

“Mydeimos..?”

It seemed the god-king finally realized and let his fingertips go… only to grasp his wrist instead. This time, it was a crushing grip that left Phainon with no room to escape.

“Wait, what are you doing?!” Phainon tried to break out of his grip, but the only thing his struggling achieved was making the sharp tips of Mydeimos’ gauntlet dig painfully into his skin.

Mydeimos led him slowly and somberly towards the foot of the throne. He had done so without a word, avoiding every single one of Phainon’s questions.

Before Phainon could process what happened to him, he felt the air knocked out of his lungs as he was slammed onto a solid surface.

With his ears ringing, he tried desperately to ground himself, scrambling for something to place his hands on. He placed his forearm on something sharp and yelped as golden blood stained the red underneath.

He was sitting on Mydeimos’ throne.

“The match is over. Now, stop squirming around so much.”

His wrists were scooped up into Mydeimos’ hands and pinned above his head. In an instant, he was bound in place to the headrest of the throne, more red crystals swallowing up his fists and keeping him there.

“Mydeimos! What’s the meaning of this?!” Phainon looked at the Titan, and there was an unmistakable darkness behind his eyes. His tone seemed like he was running out of patience the more questions Phainon threw at him.

“Mydeimos this, Mydeimos that… Surely you’re not dimwitted enough to know what’s happening to you right now?”

The god-king hooked one of his armored fingers over the collar of Phainon’s tunic. He pushed the point of his finger into one of the stitches, and pulled down.

The sound of his own clothes ripping made Phainon open his mouth to utter a protest, but all that came out was a choked whimper. 

“A body as wonderfully sculpted as this is much more suited to being on the front lines of the Kremnoan forces than threshing wheat.”

He was truly, genuinely terrified. 

To this god, whom sword fighting was just child’s play to, what sorts of tortures would he be able to inflict upon him?

Mydeimos loomed over him, undoing the buckle of his belt. The sound of the buckle hitting the cobblestone floor gave Phainon some levity to finally question his motives.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Phainon hissed curses at the god-king in Elysian, but it seemed even his obvious display of aggression didn’t stop him from what he was planning to do.

The god-king took the waistband of his pants and slid them down, freeing his cock.

Phainon couldn’t even bring himself to look. His brain wandered somewhere else, most likely a defense mechanism in order to keep himself from completely shutting down.

Now that he thought about it, he was glad he volunteered to be the blood sacrifice, for at least Cyrene wouldn’t have had to be put in this situation. How scary would it be for someone like her, who was so gentle, even towards the tiniest sprouts in the soil…

His left thigh was pushed and spread as far as it could go. His muscles burned at the position they were in, exerted far beyond their normal capacity.

Mydeimos’ finger trailed up the seam where Phainon’s pants were joined.

Just like his tunic prior to it, the linen tore helplessly underneath the force of his finger, exposing an expanse of skin as well as a pretty pink hole and a half-hard dick.

“Hm, so you are enjoying this.”

Phainon was snapped out of his reverie, forced to look downward at the warmth that was encroaching his thigh.

He was scared beyond his wits as he saw the velvety head of Mydeimos’ cock press down on his fluttering hole, threatening to push past it and into his unwilling warmth. He considered himself a decent size, but compared to Mydeimos’, even he felt quite lacking in that department.

Phainon’s breath picked up, erratic hics and gasps wracking his body. To take him without any preparation almost certainly meant an injury.

A dam broke somewhere inside his heart, and tears escaped his eyes, leaving searing-hot trails down his face.

“Please… have mercy…”
Phainon sobbed pitifully as he looked up at Mydeimos. 

If there truly was once humanity in him, he looked for it within his eyes.

...

“No… this doesn’t feel quite right.”

Mydeimos sighed as he tugged the waistband of his pants back up, and left it to settle on his hips.

“You have earned my respect and so I must give what is due to you.”

He shed his blood red cape and threw it over Phainon’s exposed body. He also took the crystals fixing Phainon’s hands in place and crumbled them under his fist.

Then, Mydeimos slid his hands under Phainon’s neck and the bends of his knees. 

Phainon made a confused whimper as he was promptly picked up and carried like he was nothing but a sack of flour.
“W-wait, where are you taking me?!” 

Mydeimos continued forward, walking with haste. He passed by sprawling hallways that led into the colosseum littered with the crystallized remains of Titankin.

“Answer me! Mydeimos!”
Phainon thrashed and kicked within his hold, but the god-king wouldn’t budge, just like in their prior spar. 

Mydeimos remained silent as he walked through large courtyards filled with carefully shaped bushes and imposing reliefs of lion’s heads, not paying any mind to the racket Phainon was making.

Phainon wished he could stop to admire them. Maybe in the future, he could have come to Castrum Kremnos to see the sights and participate in a few training sessions with the locals. Right now, though, something much more pressing was on his mind.

“I thought I was owed respect? Then at least answer my questions, you tyrant!” He screamed, caring not about how his voice echoed in the hallways.

They walked past Kremnoan soldiers in the middle of sparring, who promptly lowered their weapons as soon as they passed by and gave Mydeimos a deep bow. 

Phainon could feel their burning stares on him as Mydeimos dismissed them to continue their training. He could hear their gossip as soon as they thought they had left their earshot.

“Foreigner.”

“Why is he with the king?”

“How dare he speak like that to His Majesty?”

His face grew red with shame, and he had no choice but to hide himself in the crook of the god-king’s neck. 

Mydeimos clicked his tongue as he placed his hand on top of Phainon’s head and pulled him closer to his body, perhaps it was his way of helping Phainon hide himself.

“Well? Is that all it took to make you quiet down?”

Phainon couldn’t find a response to that question.

He didn’t mean to, but as he breathed in to calm his nerves, he noticed the scent against Mydeimos’ skin.

The first scent that hit him was the sharp tang of the metallic alloy of his jewelry, and then it mellowed out, giving way to the fruity sweetness of pomegranate juice.

Somehow, that was unexpected, but quite pleasant. At least, it helped as he hid himself from the judging stares of the Kremnoans.

They passed by grand rooms, all with decor in the form of vases, tapestries, and weaponry, dyed in the Titan’s colors of red and gold.

As they ducked into even more winding hallways, more and more marks of Mydeimos’ personal preferences appeared, making it clear that this place was where he spent a lot of his personal free time.

Finally, the god-king stopped in front of a room marked with a large door.

“Where is this now?” Phainon spoke, barely above a whisper.

“You’ll see.”

Ah, Mydeimos’ bed chambers. They were no different from the outside in terms of decor, it seemed.

When he was carried in, the first thing that hit him was the scent of perfumed candles giving off a deep floral fragrance.

The canopy surrounding the large bed was draped with a sheer red fabric that glistened slightly in the candlelight. The tassels on the cushions similarly shined with their golden threads.

It was so dim that Phainon could barely make out the rest, the back of the room cloaked in shadow, but he vaguely saw various armor and weaponry displayed like trophies.

He was finally set down onto the impossibly soft sheets. Layers of warm linens and plush animal fur gave under his weight.

The god-king plucked his cape from Phainon’s body, exposing him once more. He also took the opportunity to pull off his sandals and throw them onto the floor. A contented sigh came from his lips.

“That’s much better.”

Mydeimos chuckled as he shed his carapace of armor — first came off his sabatons and greaves, then his gauntlets, and finally his pauldron.

This was the most vulnerable the god-king had been. 

Since he was already shirtless, the only thing left on his body was his ostentatious jewelry, and his pants which hung low on his pelvis, giving a tantalizing peek to blond hairs dotting the trail, presumably leading again to that impressive cock of his.

Does he think Phainon can’t harm him in this state and simply flee the palace? Sure, he wouldn’t know where to go from there, but if he tried he could probably rely on his newly inherited Strife powers-

“Try anything funny, and you will get punished for it accordingly.”

Ah, were his thoughts that obvious? Cyrene had always told him that he always wore his heart on his sleeve.

Besides, Phainon had to play along for now, unless he wanted his home to remain plagued with the famine forever.

“Fine.”
Phainon’s face fell. He supposed this was indeed just a little bit better than the situation he was put in earlier, but he still didn’t know what he did in order to warrant this.

“In the same vein, if you behave, you will be rewarded.”

Phainon looked up at him. Was that his laughably flippant attempt at consoling him? If so… it worked. Inside, the feeling grew that he had to be good for the Titan in order to finish what he started.

He watched as Mydeimos swept aside the torn fabric of his tunic in order to get access to the expanse of skin underneath.

Mydeimos placed his hand flat on Phainon’s abdomen, just underneath his belly button. The gentle touch was as comforting as it could be in such an uncomfortable situation.

Something glowed underneath the god-king’s hand. As he removed his palm from Phainon’s skin, the mysterious object came into view.

The shape of a heavenly lance, the very symbol of Strife glowed in bright red, matching the god-king’s own body markings. Mydeimos had emblazoned his brand into Phainon’s skin.

The brand pulsated with light, sending an unexplainable warmth across Phainon’s body and making him shudder. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of everything on his body — the bedsheets underneath sticking to his sweaty skin, the hot air over his exposed cock, and Mydeimos’ hungry gaze.

“That is…?”
Phainon’s heart started beating quicker again. The brand had somehow made him more sensitive to the myriad of stimuli coming at him from all directions.

“It will make things feel a lot more… pleasant for you.”

Phainon watched as Mydeimos planted a hand beside his right shoulder, before leaning over to one of the nightstands to fish out a small golden vial. The lid was popped open, and a familiar grassy scent filled the air. 

With the way Mydeimos was leaning over him, he could see the peaks and valleys of defined musculature on his frame, and it made his tongue dart out to wet his lips. To think that he was currently under this heavenly body made a faint want flare up in his groin.

“Are you ready, little lamb?”

It’s not as if Phainon was sent to the altar to be slaughtered, he thought. All he had to do was just stand there in front of the offerings and cut open his palm, letting blood flow into the basin.

Even so, he whimpered at the sound of that name. It curled around his ears and made redness bloom in his cheeks. Like he was enthralled to be called as such.

Phainon, son of Hieronymus and Audata. A Chrysos Heir and the finest warrior of Aedes Elysiae. Nothing more than a sacrificial offering for Mydeimos the Strife Titan.

“It seems like you are.”

Mydeimos leaned down, his head settling somewhere in between Phainon’s thighs. He watched as his legs were thrown over Mydeimos’ shoulders. His face was so close to his groin that he could feel breaths tickle his inner thigh. 

Phainon twitched as he felt the slick of oil on his skin. It was at least warm, having been kept inside the god-king’s burning hot grasp.

He gasped as he felt Mydeimos’ thick finger breach the ring of muscle.

“O-oh, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Phainon let out a shaky breath. He thought he could get used to this feeling...

“This is not even a tenth of what I will make you take tonight. Brace yourself.”

He gulped audibly.

Not even a tenth…? Just one finger already burned ever so slightly, soothed only by the glide of the olive oil spread onto Mydeimos’ finger as he gently coaxed it in and out of Phainon’s asshole.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. This is the first time he had ever experienced having his ass played with, much less by a god. It didn’t particularly feel bad nor good, and all he could do was grasp for the pillows underneath him.

“Not enough… you need to take more of me.”

Slowly but surely, Mydeimos slid another lubricated finger into Phainon’s hole, which surprisingly accepted it without much of a fight. He thrusted his wrist upward and hit a spot deeper than before which had Phainon’s whole body jerking, unable to cope with the unknown sensation.

“Titans abov- oh...! What is that?”
His hand had shot up to cover his face in embarrassment of the sound that he made just now.

“How did it feel?”

“Good… Better than I thought.” 
A playful little curve in Phainon’s smile made the god-king huff.

“Hmph, an insult to my abilities in bed.”
“So, I take it that you want more?”

Phainon nodded, looking up at Mydeimos behind the gaps of his fingers.

“Then be a good boy and stop hiding from me.”

Mydeimos reached for the hand covering his face, and via the wrist, pinned it into the pillows underneath.

“W-where did that tough guy act from before go? Why are you treating me so gently, as if…”
Phainon’s voice trailed off into silence, not wanting to state the obviously implied word there.

The god-king squeezed Phainon’s wrist ever so slightly.

“Oh, so you would prefer being treated like a whore instead? Be careful what you wish for, little lamb.”

“No, that’s not what I-”

Mydeimos curved his two fingers upward, assaulting the bundle of nerves sitting inside Phainon by continuously rubbing against it at a cruel and punishing speed.

“Fuck~?!”
Phainon clawed at the bed sheets beneath him, gripping so hard that his knuckles turned white. Unbridled moans spilled out of his mouth as he felt his spot get stimulated over and over again to the point of his dick growing painfully hard, smearing precum against the brand on his toned stomach.

He felt himself clench around Mydeimos’ fingers as he tried to, in any way, stop the attack on his prostate.

Phainon closed his legs, but Mydeimos just casually pushed them apart. He tried to lean over and grab at broad shoulders, pressing down onto the tattooed flesh with his hands. This didn't deter him, either.

The brand pulsated with light again, making the overwhelming sensation even worse. Before long, the pooled up heat in his gut threatened to burst.

“So this is all it takes for you? Yet another thing we’ll have to fix.”

“Mydeimos, please, no more, I’m go- ahn...! ”
Phainon pleaded for him to stop, but it was too little, too late. Before he even finished his sentence, white ropes of cum spurted out of his cock and left him seeing static dance at the edges of his vision.

Despite Phainon’s climax, Mydeimos didn’t stop at all. In fact, he had turned up the intensity even more. He opted to slide in a third and fourth finger when Phainon was busy arching his back like a bowstring pulled taut. He was preparing Phainon in earnest now, spreading apart his fingers in order to get his asshole used to the feeling of being fucked open.

“I just came, you damned tyrant! Nnh, still sensitive, please…!”
Phainon didn’t even know what he was pleading for anymore, but his body made it clear, rutting into the fingers slotted inside him and reaching into parts that he had yet to explore himself.

“For the last time, I am not a tyrant. Correct yourself.”

There was the slightest hint of playfulness behind his exasperated tone, and Phainon could finally see signs that the god-king was actually enjoying this.

“I don’t know, it seems that way to me-?!”
He immediately regretted his words when Mydeimos spread him as open as his inexperienced hole could go. The deliciously painful burn went straight to Phainon’s cock and made him moan out platitudes to ease the temper of the god-king.
“I’m sorry, oh, gods, ‘m sorry, king M-Mydeimos…”

“There. That’s more like it.”

Once Phainon complied, Mydeimos resumed alternating between brushing against his prostate and spreading open his hole.

Phainon’s hips twitched and trembled around the Titan’s shoulders. He gasped out syllables that had little meaning, his voice climbing higher and higher as more heat pooled up in his gut, too soon after the first climax.

“You are much more tolerable like this.”

Mydeimos wrapped his hand around Phainon’s wrist, drawing soft circles into alabaster skin.

“Just a bit more, and you will be ready.”

“Mnn, no, I don’t think I’ll ever be… Haah, your dick, ‘s too big…”
Phainon’s head turned sideways, trying to bury his words into the down feathers so that they wouldn’t reach Mydeimos’ keen ears. They reached him anyway.

“You will be surprised at how fast you’ll adapt.”

Finally, after what felt like hours of being fucked open, Mydeimos pulled his fingers out of the enveloping warmth. The action came complete with a wet sound that echoed through the air and made Phainon’s face redder than it already was.

Even if it was just a little bit, the short reprieve where Mydeimos shed his pants at least gave him some time to catch his breath. He had been going on for far too long with not enough oxygen in his lungs.

Once Mydeimos was done, he climbed back onto the bed, slotting a knee in between Phainon’s legs.

“Relax. If you don’t, it will hurt even more.”
Mydeimos cooed as he pushed apart palpably tense thighs, and led them to settle somewhere on the small of his back.

“Even more? So it will hurt?”

Phainon looked up at him, brows knit together in worry.

“Liar! You told me I’d adapt…”

He kicked Mydei's back with the heels of his feet.  

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t hurt at first. Now, behave.”

This time, Phainon gathered enough courage to look at Mydeimos’ cock. It was every bit as impressive in size as he remembered, and the preparation this time didn’t make it any less daunting.

He inhaled sharply when he felt it touch his rim again, but Mydeimos didn’t move. This time, the god-king waited for him to exhale and release the tension that settled in his shoulders.

Slowly, carefully, Mydeimos pressed and pushed forward until his entrance gave in and accepted the intrusion.

Phainon’s eyes blew wide open as he tried to use his elbows to climb upward, away from Mydeimos’ cock, but he was kept there in his place by the hands holding him down firmly onto the bed.

“Oh fuck, Titans, please, it’s too much…” 
Tears formed at the sides of his eyes again. The stretch still burned, but this time it came with an unexpected pleasure. His spent penis perked up in interest of what was to come.

He felt Mydeimos’ cock push into him and pull out in short strokes. Phainon could tell by the way the fists planted on the sides of his waist would shake with want. It was taking him a significant amount of willpower to hold back.

Phainon cried out every time the head of the god-king’s cock would catch on his rim as he shallowly thrusted in and out of his hole.

“You can take it.”

Mydeimos gave a particularly harsh thrust, which only served to embed himself deeper into Phainon’s body.

“You mean to say that I have no choice… but to take it?”
He managed to scoff out as Mydeimos grinded inside him, sheathing more and more of his length inside. 
“Mmh, a-already so full… Please don’t tell me there’s more.”

“If you’re able to talk back like that, then it means I haven’t done nearly enough.”

Mydeimos readjusted his grip on Phainon’s hips, pressing down with a purposefully strong force. Phainon gulped, that would definitely leave marks.

Just as he was thinking about how to hide them, the god-king pulled out almost all the way, save for the very tip of his dick, and slammed his entire length inside, bottoming out in two motions.

Phainon screamed, his voice cracking as he felt his body light up with a white-hot pain. He contracted and twitched around Mydeimos like he was trying desperately to expel his presence inside of him.

“So tight… I told you, relax or you’ll get yourself hurt.”

He didn’t know what answer Mydeimos was expecting out of him. But all he could give in return were broken sobs that were wrangled out from his throat.

He was starting to reevaluate if he had actually had masochistic tendencies this whole time, and he was only in the process of finding out now. The pain only served to amplify the pleasure, and the pleasure was making his brain melt and spill out in the form of a continuous stream of tears.

Phainon couldn’t tell when, but he had apparently wrapped his arms around the god-king’s neck. He must have been trembling around him so much that even a tyrant like him began to take some sick and twisted form of pity…

He felt a soft, wet texture drag up the side of his cheek. Mydeimos was lapping up his tears like he craved them. He eventually pulled away once he had cleaned up all the tear tracks.

“Alright. I won’t move for now.”

His hands slid underneath Phainon’s armpits and around his back, drawing him into an embrace and just… keeping him there. 

Once the hics and sobs rattling Phainon’s chest settled down, Mydeimos began moving again. His brain was finally able to focus, and he was acutely aware of the weight of the god-king’s penis inside him as it slipped out slowly with a hot and heavy drag.

Mydeimos pulled out just until the tip, and thrust in again all at once.

This time, Phainon was much more used to the sensation, and a sinful moan came out of him. He was feeling more of the pleasure than the pain now, even though it was still quite uncomfortable.

“I told you. You will adapt quickly.”

Phainon vaguely nodded as Mydeimos continued what he was doing before, but each time, going faster and faster until he settled into a regular rhythm.

“H-hate that, ahh… you’re right.”
He choked out in between the moans being pulled out of his throat unwittingly.

“But you love how it feels. Don’t you?”

Phainon couldn’t think up a fitting retort for that statement. 

He loved how Mydeimos rolled his hips upward, stimulating his prostate with each thrust and making his toes curl in on themselves. 
He loved the way that Mydeimos pressed the gentlest kisses to his jawline, to his neck, and to his collarbone, compared to how brutally he was being fucked.
He loved the way that Mydeimos’ moans brushed against his ear, making him feel so desired.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

Phainon pulled himself up and shakily tried to press a kiss to Mydeimos’ lips. In his lust-fueled delirium, he missed and kissed his cheek instead.

The god-king’s eyes widened, and if he wasn’t staring right at them, he would have missed it.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Mydeimos guided Phainon’s lips to his, and it didn’t take long for the chaste kisses they were sharing earlier to turn into hungry attempts to devour him whole, a chaotic tangle of teeth and tongue.

Phainon moaned and gasped into the kiss. The filthy sounds that poured out of his mouth made vibrations spread along his throat, making him more aware of just how foreign he sounded. He never thought he was capable of making noises like that, yet here he was.

At some point between Mydeimos fucking him raw and Phainon reciprocating his hungry touches, he had forgotten why he was on this bed in the first place. The walls he had put up around himself melted away along with his perception of time, as the only thing he could focus on was the heat nestled deep inside and around him.

All too soon, he was brought back to reality by Mydeimos pulling away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting them before breaking off into the unreasonably warm air. 

Going from having his mouth too full, to suddenly feeling empty… It made him whine with need.

“Exquisite. Every part of you is delicious.”

“Here…”

He moaned as he felt a thumb swipe against his kiss-swollen lips, wiping away some of the saliva that had pooled there.

“...And here…”

Mydeimos took a hardened nipple into his index and thumb and squeezed, making Phainon’s cock twitch helplessly against his stomach. He didn’t even know he could derive pleasure from that.

“...And here, too.”

Mydeimos’ eyes zeroed into the brand sitting on Phainon’s abdomen. That made Phainon look down as well.

If Mydeimos pushed in, the brand distended with the shape of his cock pressing against his deepest parts.

If he pulled out, it hollowed and flattened, marking a hole waiting to be filled back up.

A sly smirk stretched across the god-king’s face as he thrust back in, filling him out fully, then smoothing his palm over the brand and pressing down hard.

“N-no, don’t press tha- haah! Please, cumming again, nhh…!”
His tongue shot out as his cock squirted pale, watery cum across the mark and Mydeimos’ hand.

As soon as Phainon finished cumming, the god-king started thrusting frantically into him. Already having cum twice, his overstimulated nerves felt like they were on fire with every drag of the cock against his sensitive flesh. With the speed and urgency of his movements, he could tell Mydeimos was also getting closer to his climax. 

He prayed and begged with his sore throat for Mydeimos to go harder, to stop, to go faster, to touch and kiss him all over. He knew that it didn’t matter what he said, the Titan would just do whatever he wanted anyways.

“You’re… agh, not making any sense...!”

It seemed that Mydeimos opted for the worst option, possibly in his frustration at Phainon’s words — to go harder and faster. He pistoned his cock into his ass at an alarming rate, there is no way humans were built to withstand this kind of force…

Eventually, Mydeimos couldn’t keep up his inhuman speed and his hips started stuttering, which was a sign he would be cumming soon.

Mydeimos buried himself into Phainon as deep as he could, a loud slap echoing across the room the moment skin collided with skin.

Phainon whined as he felt a wave of burning hot liquid spill inside of him. Mydeimos continued fucking him as he rode out his own orgasm, the excess seed spilling out from Phainon’s ass and onto the sheets below. 

“Haah, finally, y-you came…”
Any more, and he felt like he would have passed out. He squirmed away from the intrusion inside, the pain of his burning muscles coming to the forefront again.

All at once, Mydeimos pulled out his dick, and it slipped out with a slick, wet pop. Phainon yelped as he didn’t expect that to happen so soon.

Since there was nothing to keep the cum inside him plugged up, it flowed out and dirtied his thighs and the fine bed sheets even more than they already were.

Phainon cried and whimpered at the pressure inside him being relieved. He collapsed into the pillows with a thud.

The two of them sat there, catching their breaths and letting the afterglow of their orgasms just pass them by.

“I think I could fall asleep…”
Phainon mumbled, grabbing a nearby pillow and pulling it to his chest.

“I don’t know about that, I haven’t had my fill just yet.”

Phainon just blinked at him. 

Here he was hanging on by the thinnest thread, and here Mydeimos was asking for more.

To be fair to the god-king, he had only come just once so far. If it was him in that position, he wouldn’t be satisfied either.

Phainon rolled over onto his stomach, stretching his limbs and letting his breathing slow down.
“At least give me a little break…”

“A break… That’s right. I have an idea.”

Mydeimos hummed happily. If an idea came to his mind, it couldn’t possibly mean anything good for Phainon. He tried to ignore it and closed his eyes.

To his surprise, he felt the weight beside him disappear. After a little bit, he heard Mydeimos blow air into something, followed by the smell of floral smoke spreading throughout the room. He probably extinguished the candles, then.

Phainon gasped as he became weightless for a split second. When he reluctantly opened his eyes, he was scooped up into Mydeimos’ arms again, and not only that, his golden gaze was fixated on him.

“To my private baths.”

Phainon nodded, vaguely conscious. He allowed himself to settle against Mydeimos’ chest and drift off to sleep.

When Phainon came to, he was being gently lowered into warm waters by strong arms.

“Haah…”
He instinctively breathed out, the steam lapping at his skin and stripping away the layers of sweat and slick that built up over the course of their prior activities. They all melted away in light clouds underneath the surface of the water. The tension in his muscles uncoiled as he sighed into the warm embrace of the baths.

“Took you long enough.”

Mydeimos squinted at him, like he was disappointed in him for being so slow to wake.

“Mm… and whose fault would that be?”
Phainon looked up at the culprit of his tiredness, even if his vision was obscured by the strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

“If I wanted to, I could drop you into the waters right now. Know your place.”

“But you aren’t… You’re kinder than you look,” Phainon giggled and reached up, brushing his finger along the sapphire embedded into gold hanging on Mydeimos’ ear. It sparkled in the dim light of the bath chambers, and reminded him much of his own eyes.

The god-king rolled his eyes in lieu of a verbal retort as he set Phainon down gingerly on the seats carved into the bath itself. He then sat beside him, leaving them shoulder-to-shoulder.

He didn’t notice at first, but they were now both naked. He rubbed at his own arms, that was a new level of trust he didn’t expect to achieve then and there.

At home, he only had a wash basin, and if he really wanted to, he could bathe in the sea, but not without his father scolding him for tracking water inside the house with his dripping wet clothes.

“I’ve heard a lot about the baths in the major cities, but who knew it could be this pleasant in person?” 

Phainon cupped some of the water in his cut palm, watching the dried up blood dissolve. Liquid gold spilled from the cracks between his fingers and into the waters below.

Mydeimos suddenly took his hand and brought it to his lips. Featherlight kisses were placed on his fingers, then to his palm. 

“Hm? What trickery is it this time...?”
Phainon whimpered as Mydeimos dragged his tongue along the surface of the cut, fresh blood gathering in his mouth.

“T-that isn’t something for you to… ahh, lap up like a cat…”
His hand twitched involuntarily as he felt pain throb from the injury again.

Mydeimos looked at him, gold staining the corners of his lips. He grinned, clearly having no remorse at all for such an act.

“We should administer some proper treatment, but now isn’t the time for that.”

“Of course you’d like to wait, because even here, you seem intent on tasting me.”
Phainon crawled over to where Mydeimos was, and using his other hand, he hoisted himself up into his lap.

“Hmph, needy.”

Despite his grumbling, he still hooked an arm around Phainon's waist to help him balance himself.

“Are we really… here? It’s a bit…”
He looked around the spacious bath chamber. While it was Mydeimos’ private bath, there was still the possibility of a servant or an official walking right up to them while they were in the middle of the act.

“Unless you would prefer fucking in the public baths instead? I don’t mind it, but you’d better get used to the title of Mydeimos’ consort.”

“Here is fine, j-just get it over with…”
He shifted in his lap again, maybe intentionally, maybe not, just to get a rise out of him.

The god-king wrapped an arm around Phainon’s waist and pulled him closer to his core. Even in the warmth of the water, Phainon felt a heavy hardness touch his lower back.

“Oh, and look who's calling me needy!”
Mydeimos gave him no further retort, as he just dug his nose into Phainon’s shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“Seriously, are all titans this much of a pain to deal with?”
Phainon tried to adjust himself to be more comfortable, but that only ended up rubbing himself against Mydeimos’ cock, twitching in response to the stimulation.

“I’m trying to focus here, little lamb. You’ll get it soon enough.”

Two hands grabbed and fondled the curves of his ass. Palms slid over skin, hungrily squeezing the firm muscle there. His thumb caressed the side of his thigh, tracing the line where Phainon’s ass connected to his legs. The glide of his palms across his still-sensitive body made Phainon shiver.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

Mydeimos hooked his hands underneath the bend of Phainon’s legs and pulled them up, until his knees hit his chest.

Phainon’s breath hitched.

He was being folded in half.

He didn’t even know he could be that flexible.

This was even more awkward of a position than being on the god-king’s lap… For starters, he didn’t know where to place his hands, leaving them to dangle uselessly into the waters below. 

“Woah…!?”
Mydeimos lifted Phainon up and lined his cock up with his hole. If he tried his best, he could vaguely see the outline of where their cores met each other in the stillness of the water.

He was held there for a while, perhaps to give him some time to admire how nice and flush he was against the god-king’s body. If he leaned back just the slightest, he could see the reflection of his reddened face in the water.

That was what he looked like to Mydeimos?

Finally, he was unceremoniously dropped onto the rock-solid dick, letting gravity do the hard work for them.

The way he was being held left him no room to move away from the penis spasming deep inside of him. Mydeimos canted his hips upwards, grinding into the spot that made Phainon’s neck crane back and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Ah! I can't, i-it’s deeper than before! ♡”
Phainon thought his voice had never sounded higher than until now. His whimpers sounded foreign to him, as if they weren’t being clawed out of his throat with every slight movement. He swore he was so sensitive he could feel every throbbing vein on Mydeimos’ cock.

“And yet you’re taking it so well. Ugh...!”

Mydeimos moaned as he couldn’t hold back anymore, and finally let his restraint slip. Firmly gripping the inside of Phainon’s knees, he used it as a leverage to bounce him up and down on his dick.

The water splashed, disturbing its peaceful surface with turbulent waves that echoed their rhythmic movements. 

Phainon’s head lolled to the side as he was fucked into mercilessly, like Mydeimos was trying to carve out a space inside of his body that only he could reach. 

All of a sudden, the Titan stopped his movements.

Was he distracted by something? Phainon hoped that it wasn’t because of a person accidentally wandering into the room.

“This tattoo… it’s so enticing. Like it’s inviting me to bite it.”

“N-no, wait, please, not there, anywhere but-”
Before he realized it, he started begging. 

Just then, a sharp pain erupted at his trapezius muscle, right where the golden sun was etched near his neck.

Mydeimos was digging his teeth into delicate skin, his canines breaking into flesh and spilling golden blood onto his chest.

Phainon screamed. The pain was much worse than when he cut into his palm, but at the same time, it felt so good. It made him clench around Mydeimos’ cock so intensely that he could barely pull out, even with the prior lubrication.

Another brand on his skin, another piece of evidence that he was conquered by a god.

He must have shown Mydeimos too much of his neck when he wasn’t trying to do so consciously… He didn’t think he would taste good. Was the thought of devouring him whole that tempting?

Mydeimos hissed as he struggled to keep moving under Phainon’s tightness, instead opting to grind his hips up and into him in order to help him relax again..

“Y-you horrible… mmh, oh fuck me, how will I hide that...?”
The constant heat pushing into his prostate allowed him to recover bit by bit as he was coaxed open again.

“There’s, haah, no need to. Let them know you’re… mine!”

Mydeimos had enough room to move inside of him, resuming his brutal pace from earlier. As if to rub salt in the wound, he placed more bite marks on his back, but this time, he didn’t put enough force behind it to break skin, only enough to bruise.

He sobbed with each mark that was carved into his back. 

This time, it was Mydeimos that came first, finishing inside Phainon with a groan that echoed through the bath chamber and made its way back to his ears. 

He shot his cum so deep inside that Phainon thought he would never be able to get it out, permanently becoming part of his body, much like the brand below his belly button.

The very thought made him come to his own climax. His toes curled as he came, squirting cum directly into the water. 

Since he was already tired, it took a while for him to recover after this orgasm. His head spun from the exhaustion and heat from the extended time spent in warm water.

He looked up at Mydeimos with bleary eyes.

There was gold on and around his mouth, his hair was tousled, his breathing was labored, and his eyes were dilated from the aftereffects of the pleasure still rushing through his veins. If Phainon’s blood were red, he would have looked like a ravenous beast that just finished eating its prey. But right now, he only thought that it enhanced his features, like gold foiling on a sculpture. It just made sense.

What didn’t make any sense is how he recovered so quickly. It felt unfair to Phainon, who hadn’t even finished catching his breath yet.

“H-how…” He muttered under his breath in awe.

“I’m not Mydeimos the Undying for no reason, you imbecile.”

After just a few seconds, Mydeimos shifted his grip so that he could lift Phainon up and out of the bath. The water that pooled in between them rushed out and into the rest of the bath, along with their cum, sweat and blood.

Phainon was transfixed by the way their miscellaneous bodily fluids colored the water before fading into nothing. 

“Felt… amazing. But it hurts.”
He murmured weakly against Mydeimos’ chest. 

“But you like it like that.”

The matter-of-fact tone that the Titan used annoyed him, but now that he looked back on it, he realized a lot of things about himself in these past few hours. Maybe there was actually merit to those words.

“...Perhaps I do.”
Phainon hummed sleepily. He had no energy left to think about what that meant about him, nor about where he was being carried off to.

The thought of being whisked off into the unknown scared him deep down, but he didn’t have the means to resist, if he wanted to at all.

“You must be tired. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”

Mydeimos pressed a kiss to Phainon’s cut palm again. That was him granting permission, right..? He hoped so as he was finally afforded the luxury of actual rest. 

The veil of sleep settled over him as Mydeimos hummed an unfamiliar song echoing into the halls.

When he opened his eyes again, Mydeimos was leaning over him, shaking his shoulder lightly.

“It’s time for dinner. Come with me, unless you want to starve.”

“Mmn, I get it, I’ll get up…”
Phainon propped himself up with his elbows, feeling the familiar softness underneath him. So he was placed in Mydeimos’ bed chambers, then. 

Remarkably, his skin didn’t feel sticky with sweat, nor did he feel any residue around his thighs. The sheets also felt brand new.

“Hmm, so the Strife Titan does know how to take care of his sexual conquests.” He teased Mydeimos, and he considered it a victory once he heard the other suck in a breath through his teeth, like he was trying to control himself.

“Stop wasting my time, the food will get colder the more we wait.”

As he used his left hand to push himself off the bed, he also noticed a slight pressure surrounding it. He brought it up to the faint moonlight and saw that it was wrapped neatly in bandages.

“It will open up again if you’re not careful.”

Mydeimos actually gave it treatment. He at least had the decency to fulfill his promises.

He tried standing up, but a sharp pain in his lower regions made his knees buckle and sent him crashing into the ground.

“Ow, ow… ugh, I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew, haha.” He laughed at himself, he was in disbelief of how much strength was sapped out of his body.

“Pathetic.”

Mydeimos offered Phainon his hand, and this time he didn’t hesitate to take it. He felt an arm snake around his wrist.

“Lean on me. The dining hall isn’t far from here.”

He placed his body weight on Mydeimos and walked with him to yet another new place. Now that he had some light from the torches lining the walls, he noticed that his torn up pants and tunic were replaced with a silk gown that was almost transparent. The fabric was comfortable and smooth to the touch, and the blue color reminded him of the sapphire adorning Mydei’s earring. 

“Since when did you sneak this onto my body...?!”
No wonder he felt that the temperature was much cooler now.

His face flushed red as he realized just how exposed he was. The fabric clung to the curves of his chest, waist, and ass, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. His free hand frantically darted out to cover his crotch.
“Can you even call this piece of fabric ‘clothing’? It doesn’t cover anything up…”

Mydeimos simply chuckled and gave his waist a firm squeeze.

“You look beautiful in it. Like a work of art.”

Phainon shook his head. He’s handled many unique pieces of artwork because of his hobby of antique appraisal. Intricate sculpture, glossy lacquerware, colorful painted scrolls, and lustrous jewelry. He doesn’t compare to those things meticulously crafted by skilled human hands.

“You don’t think so? If you’re not careful, someone will snatch you up and prove your worth.”

Mydeimos pressed a kiss to his cheek. He didn’t notice earlier, but the Titan’s lips were surprisingly plush and soft.

‘Aren’t you already doing that?’ He wanted to reply, but he just kept it to himself.

Even at night, the palace sparkled with a golden luster. The decor was as showy as the man ruling it was.

He was helped down onto the seat, and his cheeks burned at the realization that he had been fucked so thoroughly that he couldn’t even do this.

“You know, I've heard this is normally the first thing to do before you fuck someone.”

Phainon watched as servants walked into the dining room carrying trays of food for the two of them. 

First, a chalice of wine — not dissimilar to the one Mydeimos drank pomegranate juice out of often — was placed down in front of him. Then, came something he didn’t expect.

He gasped in delight as a large serving of thickly sliced reddish meat was placed in front of him with a side of crusty bread.

“I-Is this cow’s meat? I’ve never had it before!”
He picked up a slice with his fork, the meat glistening with fat and smelling of fresh herbs.

“Hm, that figures, kings probably have this all the time~”

His eyes wandered over to Mydeimos’ plate of food.

“Golden honeycakes for dinner? Really…?”
Phainon raised an eyebrow at his selection. It did look awfully delicious, the cakes were piled high on the plate and berries were served on top along with a generous drizzle of honey.

“I do what I want. Just stuff your mouth with food already so you can keep your snide comments to yourself.”

Phainon reckoned gods didn’t need to eat food, but they would probably enjoy it nonetheless. His suspicions were confirmed when the god-king’s eyes widened upon the first bite of the cake, right before taking three more big bites in succession.

“When I get home, I’ll tell everyone that the Strife Titan loves offerings consisting of pomegranate and golden honeycakes. They’ll surely be pleased with that information.”

Phainon hummed as he soaked up the herb-infused olive oil at the bottom of the plate with the wonderfully soft, airy bread and put it in his mouth.

“...Tomorrow morning, I’ll return you to your home. Aedes Elysiae, was it?”

Phainon’s eyes widened.

Right… He was in another territory, in the presence of the Strife Titan. The leader of the Kremnoan forces known for burning city-states to the ground and taking its citizens as war trophies and slaves.

He dug his nails into his palm, leaving little crescent marks where they came into contact. Then, he lowered his head.
“Please, whatever you do, don’t harm them…”

It was the first time he had bowed to the god-king of his own will. 

Mydeimos was eerily silent, but he dared not to look up to see what the look on his face was.

He heard the chair get pushed aside, followed by the clack of footsteps against marble.

Phainon steeled himself as he saw Mydeimos’ shadow inch closer and closer to him on the floor.

His heart hammered so hard against his chest that he almost couldn’t hear the sound of gauntlets being removed.

“I have no reason to. Worry not.”

Mydeimos carded his fingers reassuringly through Phainon’s hair.

He raised his head slowly but surely, and Mydeimos continued stroking his hair for a little while more until he presumably had his fill. He returned to his chair shortly after.

As soon as the Titan removed his hand, Phainon began gasping for air. He didn’t let himself breathe, scared of even the slightest movement causing a scene.

He had nothing to be worried about, though. He remembered the utterances he gave to Mydeimos just a few hours ago.

‘You’re kinder than you look…’

He ignored the warmth spreading across his cheeks as he moved on to the next most pressing thing.

“A-and what of the Earth Titan’s blessing? In the first place, the reason the ritual was interrupted…”
His voice trailed off, he decided it was quite improper to blame Mydeimos for barging into a ritual and taking offerings that weren’t meant for him, even if it really was his fault. Maybe he had learned a thing or two from his fellow calamity Titan, Zagreus.

“Yes, I know, I shall have a word with them. Rest assured that your efforts will not be in vain.”

Phainon clutched his chest in relief. The famine will end after all. 

Now that all was said and done, he turned his attention back to his steak. He was a little sad knowing that their time together was going to end, even if it did start off on the wrong foot. 

The rest of the dinner resumed in silence. Both of them were probably quite tired, after all. Or at least, he assumed Mydeimos was, but he seemed to be fighting fit after his meal. Maybe golden honeycakes had a healing effect of sorts.

Finally, the two of them returned to Mydeimos’ bed chambers. It was as he remembered, except the sheets had thankfully been cleaned up this time. They must have left it in quite a mess earlier.

Phainon watched from the side of the room as Mydeimos shed all of his armor, leaving them carefully lined up on the side table. He wondered if it was a rare sight to see him out of his armor. He really did seem as if he was always ready to charge into battle in a moment’s notice.

“What are you standing there for?”

Mydeimos climbed into bed. He brushed aside his hair and rested his head in the palm of his hand, before patting the spot in front of him.

“Join me.”

It didn’t really register in his mind that they would fall asleep together in the same room. He thought he would get sent to another bedchamber. This damned Titan really is full of himself, Phainon thought as he hesitantly walked towards the bed.

He was looking at the ground as he did so, but he could feel the god-king’s eyes on him again, reminding him of the utterly debauched thing he was wearing.

He sighed as he willed himself to climb onto the bed as well, shuffling onto the spot that Mydeimos left open. As he let himself fall into the pillows, he thought that it was the most luxurious thing he’s ever laid in.

His gaze shifted up to Mydeimos, who was still silently observing him. He gave no particular reaction even as he met his eyes.

“U-um… good night?”
Phainon awkwardly said. He wasn’t really sure what to do in this situation.

“Mhm. Good night, my little lamb.”

Mydeimos pulled him closer, keeping him against his chest. From how it looked earlier, Phainon thought his pectorals would be as hard as stone, but they gave softly under his touch. 

Mydeimos threw the sheets over both of them. The warmth was a comfortable haze this time, nothing like the searing heat he experienced earlier. It intensified his drowsiness until he eventually struggled to keep his eyes open.

This was the third time he had lost consciousness for an extended amount of time and woke up inside Castrum Kremnos, he told himself.

Once he realized that the sun had already risen, he shot up, and immediately regretted it. Instead of the sharp pain that plagued him yesterday during dinner, a dull ache spread throughout his body and plagued his joints.

He couldn’t help himself. As comfortable as this room was, he missed the smell of the salty sea and the wheat fields. 

He tried to distract himself by looking to his side.

Mydeimos was gone. 

His place on the bed had already cooled, having been exposed to the air. The only proof that he had been there prior was his musk lingering on the pillows.

Phainon didn’t know why, but that made his chest swirl with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

The pain from yesterday’s injuries was quite manageable now, though, so he just pushed through the hurt and stood up.

He noticed his sandals and his sword laying on the foot of the bed, so he slipped into those, and carried his sword along with him since he had no belt to attach the sheath to.

He didn’t really know where he was going, just that he followed the path that he vaguely remembered that led out into the dining hall. Go left, then go straight, then take a sharp right into the big archway. He had no leads except this, so he prayed that he would find the Titan there.

As he walked past ornate mosaics and tapestries illuminated by warm sunlight, he saw the archway appear in front of him. He sighed in relief and ran up to it before two guards blocked him from entering with their lances.

“The king is currently busy and is not taking any guests. Speak your purpose.”

Right, of course, this was still a palace in a major city. If they just let an outsider carrying a weapon walk around willy-nilly, then the god-king would have been assassinated long ago.

Phainon opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find a satisfactory answer. What was he supposed to say? That he was Mydeimos’ acquaintance? He certainly didn’t look the part if he was supposed to be here on official business.

Just then, a booming voice came from inside the dining hall.

“Let him in. He poses no harm.”

Phainon’s lips curled up into a pout. ‘Poses no harm’, as if he didn’t actually catch Mydeimos off guard during their spar, even if only for a little bit.

The voice did mean that Mydeimos was there, dining with an older man who had a myriad of battle scars on his face. He looked like an experienced warrior, a general, perhaps?

Before long, the man noticed Phainon standing in the archway.

“Oh, Your Majesty! Have you finally gotten yourself a consort? I have to say, you have good taste.” The man looked Phainon up and down before turning back to his food. 
“But be more careful with your toys next time. Look at how hard he’s been roughed up…”

Phainon flinched at those choice of words. 

Right, everything in the palace was either red or gold, and with him being a foreigner having snow-white hair and dressed in translucent blue draperies, he would certainly stick out like a sore thumb. 

Before he could even open his mouth to correct the man, the god-king was already staring daggers at him. He decided to back off on that, then. Let them think what they want.

Mydeimos coughed.

“Krateros. Let us return to the main topic.”

“Of course. Soldiers have been stationed around the main gate, as well as inside of the palace. This is in addition to the troops making their regular patrols. Rest assured, we will tighten security in your absence.”

“Very good. Then you are dismissed.”

“I’ll leave you to enjoy your time with your consort, then.”

The man stood up and left shortly after giving Mydeimos a salute. Phainon really wanted to correct him, but he supposed he was going to leave soon, so it didn’t matter much.

“Absence?”
Phainon walked up to the table, barely able to keep his confusion at bay.

“You promised you would send me home come morning!”
He clutched at his chest. He didn’t mean to raise his voice like that, but he was distraught at the reminder of his family, who were likely confused at his disappearance.

Mydeimos rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you are right.“

Phainon couldn’t help but catch the sarcastic lilt in his tone. 

“I’ll be absent precisely because I will personally be sending you back home. Now sit and eat breakfast.”

Mydeimos motioned to the servant standing beside him to fetch another serving of food.

Oh.

He inhaled, it seemed he had overreacted to that. He guessed it was only fair, since Mydeimos was the one who took him from where he was standing that afternoon. He should be the one to return him, as well.

And maybe, just a little bit, it confused him as to how it needed the god-king’s personal intervention when he could just as easily be kicked out of the palace and sent home in a cart. 

He waved those thoughts away as he sat down opposite Mydeimos, like how they were situated yesterday.

It didn’t take long for the smell of food to hit him from where he was sitting. Sweet and nutty… He could already guess what he would be eating, then.

Phainon’s mouth watered as the plate was placed in front of him. It was now his turn to eat the so-called Titan’s favorite golden honeycakes.

He raised his fork and sliced down, the tender layers splitting with the slightest force. He placed a slice in his mouth, and the aroma of honey and butter filled his senses. 

How he wished he could take this back to Cyrene, Piso and Livia to taste. Being the sweet tooths that they were, they would be delighted with such a luxury. Before he knew it, he had already inhaled most of the dish, leaving the freshly picked berries as his tangy, refreshing palate-cleanser.

“Are you done eating? Then let’s go. The carriage is waiting.”

Mydeimos said once he noticed Phainon’s emptied plate.

Phainon stood up. As he tucked the chair underneath the table, he caught a glimpse of his bare legs underneath the blue fabric again.

“Sorry to say this, but I can’t really face my family with….”
He gestured to his outfit, waving his palms up and down the sides of his figure.

“Hmm, and here I was thinking you had no shame.”

The god-king chuckled as he pulled out a small parcel wrapped in parchment from the seat beside him and put it down onto the table.

“Change. It’s similar to the one you had before, but in a much better color palette.”

“And who was the one that put me in this shameless outfit?”
Phainon angrily grabbed the parcel before ripping the paper open. He did have to give him credit where credit was due, for the linen of this outfit was much finer and smoother in texture than the ones he had back home.

He blushed as he slipped out of the sheer blue silk robe. He paid no mind to Mydeimos who seemed to be eating him alive with his eyes as he tugged on the new clothes.

He held out his arm, testing how the tunic and the new pants draped against his body, and noticing that it fit perfectly. The cut was a little unfamiliar, though. It sat a little tighter against his body, draping against him in all the right places. Perhaps it was a new trend in the big cities.

“Not bad," he hummed in delight.

“Now that there are no more complaints, shall we set off?”

He was led to an inconspicuous back gate, where a humble carriage was waiting for them. 

Phainon expected something more… well, royal, but of course a king can’t be seen leaving the palace and going off to who knows where on personal business.

They boarded the carriage, which was surprisingly luxurious inside compared to what its plain decor would let on. He leaned into the cushioned backrest. Shortly after, the carriage began moving.

“I know this is your first time outside of your home. So if you wish, pull back the curtain and sightsee. Just don’t make too much of a fuss.”

Phainon excitedly scooted up to the window and did as Mydeimos suggested. He swept aside the curtain blocking the carriage window, making sure to leave some room to block the god-king’s face from his loyal subjects.

They were currently passing by the heart of the city, where a large and bustling morning market was situated. Phainon took in the scent of thyme, coriander, and pepper that wafted from the food stalls. It seemed that the Kremnoans liked their food heavily seasoned.

“I wonder if you’ve ever eaten street food like that. You’d be missing out!”
He reminisced about the skewered fish and deep-fried fritters back home that would be served during their harvest festivals.

“Of course. I’m quite fond of the skewered meats, myself.”

“Hehe, then that’s one thing we have in common.”

As they traveled, they eventually exited the city, where the large buildings continued shrinking into the distance the further they got on the road.

Phainon was enraptured with the constantly changing scenery. He gasped in delight as they passed larger-than-life monuments, of things that he had only heard about in passing or in books. It was surreal to see them come to life before his eyes. 

“Castrum Kremnos seemed so labyrinthian from inside, but now that I see it from afar like this, it truly is a magnificent city.”

“Naturally. Now save the flattery and focus on resting.”

As Castrum Kremnos disappeared past the horizon, more and more dramatic landscapes revealed themselves, all carrying their own story. Some day, when Phainon had the means to, he’d love to immerse himself in the world that seemed impossibly large for one man to explore.

“Oh, what an impressive structure! And the mountains sheltering it makes for quite the gorgeous view.”
“Janusopolis’ great temple stands as a beacon of hope for the followers of the Holy Maiden. Hmph, her and her thousands of segments can be a bit too much.” 

“Even from here, you can see Kephale’s figure… I can’t help but feel a little sorry for the weight they have to carry on their back without any rest.”
“The Dawn Device. Thanks to it, Okhema is bathed in eternal daylight. I could personally never get used to it, the night has to be dark to facilitate proper rest.”

“I’ve heard many stories of the Grove of Epiphany from my teacher, but it is awe-inspiring in person.”
“Their scholars are… the eccentric sort, to say the least. It’s best not to deal with them more than what is necessary.”

After what seemed like an eternity on the road, Phainon could see the ocean stretching across the pale pink horizon, bordered by cottony clouds. Fishing vessels, both big and small, littered the surface of the water. Some of them looked awfully familiar.

He poked his head out of the carriage’s window and was met with the cool breeze carrying the scent of wheat fields.

“You look like you’re about to burst into tears.”

Mydeimos crossed his arms.

“I-I am? Haha, what a ridiculous thing to say...”
Phainon’s breath hitched, before a sob came tumbling out of his mouth. Then, he couldn’t hold in his tears anymore as they flowed freely and dripped onto the floor of the carriage.
“I’m home… I’m sorry for making you wait, mom, dad, Cyrene…”

Mydeimos kept his silence and let him cry his eyes out.

The carriage stalled, until finally coming to a stop on the side of the road.

He carefully stepped out of the vehicle, making sure not to aggravate his injuries, which had been recovering well thanks to the treatment given to him. Mydeimos disembarked shortly after he did.

The god-king deeply inhaled, and Phainon smiled as he saw his tense shoulders relax upon feeling the wind brush his reddish hair. He looked out into the golden fields, before turning back to face him.

“You can find your way home from here, can’t you?”

Phainon nodded. He looked into the distance and followed the path up to where he was currently standing. The sight of the unpaved road underneath his feet gave him courage.

Mydeimos stayed beside the carriage, watching him from afar.

So, this was it. 

He had finally fulfilled his mission, and although a few unexpected things happened along the way, the thought that his journey would be over struck melancholy into his heart.

He walked.

One.
Two.
Three steps, before sharply turning on his heel and running. 

“Mydeimos!”

The Titan looked up as his name was called. He had a look of disbelief on his face as Phainon charged at him full-speed and wrapped his arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!”

Mydeimos staggered backwards. Phainon smiled, happy that he was finally able to break that indestructible composure of his.

“Will I ever see you again…?”
He couldn’t believe his own ears, but in his heart, he knew that he had to ask no matter what.

The god-king groaned.

“A futile question.”

He ran his thumb across Phainon’s abdomen, right where he placed the brand, before returning the hug.

“As long as that mark is on you, I’ll be able to tell where you are.”

Once Phainon released him from his grasp, Mydeimos took the opportunity to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Goodbye, little lamb. May we meet again under better circumstances.”

“Mhm. Then let’s have another spar. I’ll train so I can win next time, you better watch out!” 
Phainon stepped backward to take one last good look at Mydeimos. Maybe it was him being conceited, but there was a glint of fondness in his golden eyes.
“So… see you around, Mydeimos!” 

He waved goodbye before he started on the path back home.