Only a True King

Chapter 5

A mage sat before the body of the queen eternal, holding her head in his hands. A single, golden, eye slowly cracked open upon her stony face.

“Well, get on with it.” She regarded him with a seething hatred. “Take thy throne. The Greater Will shall discard thee just as quickly as all the others. We will see thy bones bleached upon the altar of the golden order just as every lord before thee.”

“As your own bones were.” The stone face of the Queen eternal contorted in rage.

“Thou art mistaken.”

“I don’t think I am. You transformed into Radagon before my eyes.”

“So then thou art here to gawk,” the head laughed ruefully. “Let all look upon the God Queen and Elden Lord! Hypocrite that it was, even it could not adhere to the order it put in place and now it shall be forced to wed the phantom of an order long displaced.”

“Is that how you prefer yourself to be referred to?” Marika looked at him in stunned incredulity.

“Have thy horns grown into thy skull?”

“Well I know some that prefer to use ‘it’, though most that exist outside of male and female prefer ‘they’. Though I also know a few that will use ‘he’ or ‘she’ either exclusively or interchangeably.”

“Thou art sincere.” The head regarded him suspiciously.

“Of course I am. I believe I may dislike you, and I hate the order that you forced upon the world, but I cannot become a host of the ring myself. I require your assistance, and I would prefer to foster a relationship of mutual respect, even if underneath that there’s nothing but mutual distaste.”

“Then thy wish is for us to enter a partnership of convenience.”

“Nothing you are unaccustomed to.”

“Do not pretend to know our heart.” Marika snarled. “We loved Godfrey and Rennala both. We would have taken them with the same form, in the same bedchamber, had we the ability.”

“I referred to your marriage with your other self, not your husband and wife.” Leon’s face softened. “She still misses you, you know. She was driven mad by your absence.”

“And thou shalt deprive her still.”

“I will do no such thing, I do not need or desire monogamy from you, and I hope you do not expect it from me.”

“We expect nothing. It is the will and the order that expects everything from us.”

“Is it not your order to change? Yourself to transform?”

“We tried, the separation of Radagon was part of a ritual of purification. We were to split ourselves and allow the halves to be concentrated down into their purest forms. Then those halves were meant to rejoin forming a perfect being, a truest self formed from the essential matter of our binary pieces, but we failed and now we are this: a shattered husk, two halves that refuse to re-enfold into a whole.”

“I think I understand why it didn’t work. Your order purports itself to be the only good and thus all else must be in opposition. Even that which was once sacred to the Erdtree central to your order was discarded as too primal, too uncivilized. You tried to invoke a primal blessing of the Erdtree and it was incompatible with the order you established, so it failed.” The head’s hair began to turn red, his jaw harshening.

“Thou wouldst have us return to the chaos of the time before even Placidussax? Go on then, burn everything to ash if thou wish it. I will fight thee to my last breath.” Radagon attempted to bite his hand.

“That is not my intent either. I merely wish to allow the world to move and change again, to break down the rigidity of your order and allow the state of living things to become more malleable. I want people like ourselves to be able to live in safety and comfort.”

“How are we in any way the same, accursed wretch?” Ah right, Leon remembered Radagon was the part of them who still believed wholeheartedly in the golden order. How could he not. If the order wasn’t right and true then what could have possibly justified leaving Rennala as he did. If the order wasn’t the answer, the only answer, how could he ever forgive himself for abandoning his children? How could he look into his youngest son’s tear filled eyes as he begged for his sister to be healed, as he demanded his demigod half brothers be released from their captivity in the sewers and tell him “Such is the order of the world” if he did not believe it himself.

“You remind me of your eldest son. He too labored endlessly for an order that could never truly love him.” Radagon finally managed to bite his hand but Leon didn’t flinch. “We are alike, because I received the blessing that was denied to you. I still live as a man because that is what pleases me, not because that is what I must be. That does not seem to be what you want.” Radagon attempted to dig his teeth in harder in lieu of an answer. “I can give my blessing to you, if you allow me.” Radagon loosened his hold on Leon’s hand, hair fading back to blond until Marika stared up at him once again.

“We would exchange our right to sovereignty for that. My other self rails against my weakness, but we no longer wish to live like this. We have grown tired from perpetual self conflict. If our order must be overthrown, so be it, we have bound ourself in its chains for long enough.” Leon placed his mending rune within the chest of the shattered god and returned their head to their shoulders. The god of order gave a long sigh of relief as their form shifted, their hair warming to strawberry blonde. They stopped somewhere between Marika and Radagon, broad shouldered and muscular, but still full chested and wide hipped. The god of order fell to their knees as their arms began to reform from the cracked and broken stone. They breathed in and out, feeling at the place where their own spear had pierced their side and felt nothing, not even the ghost of a wound. Leon watched as the Erdtree glowed back to life around them. He began to feel a heat, burning somewhere deep below the ground and he understood the crucible had once again been lit. The God of order staggered to their feet, their muscles weak simultaneously from atrophy and years of combat, using their stone hammer as a cane.

“How do you feel?”

“I am whole for the first time in centuries.” The god touched their own chest, feeling where Radagon’s massive tits had melded into Marika’s. “It is finally quiet.”

“How would you like to be addressed?”

“I have no name yet. Though I suppose for now ‘they’ ought to suffice.” The god of order cracked their back, dust falling from the still healing marble. They gave Leon a once over. “So I must take an omen as a consort. What a sad state of affairs.”

“If you prefer for me to be consort in name only, that is amenable to me. There are others I may find pleasure in. However, I must insist on the restoration of grace and legal rights to omenkind.”

“I traded thee my sovereignty, do as thou wilt with it.” The god waved their hand dismissively. “But there is ritual to these things. The Elden Lord and God Sovereign must produce children that could feasibly replace them.” They hadn’t wanted to bed themself. The act had been repulsive to them, comparable in their minds to incest. They had loved their strong and resilient daughter and their clever and charismatic son, but their curses weighed upon them. They knew instinctively it was because of what they had done. Unalloyed gold was the softest and most delicate of metals after all. However, it was part of the ritual of power. It was necessary for them to maintain their position, even if it had meant cursing the twins, even if now it meant bedding a curse-born monster.

“Alright, well then if you’d like I had something to that effect planned as a celebration this evening.”

“So then I shall stand in for whatever poor maiden thou planned to ravish this evening.” The omen mage made a strange expression.

“Well not exactly.”

“It has been quite a while my friend!” Darriwil clapped Hirnant on the shoulder. “Who is your friend?” A man with long, dark hair and wild, yellow eyes accompanied the knight, his hands dotted with teal Glintstone.

“Smarag. Human-like form is better for this purpose.”

The dragon reached out to take the knight’s hand, shooting him a predatory grin. “You were a sorcerer once, weren’t you?” He kissed Darriwil’s hand allowing his sharp teeth to drag across his skin. “You have a delightful scent.”

“Down boy.” Darriwil withdrew his hand, then pulled Hirnant aside for a moment. “Are you sure he’s safe to bring around the little mage? From what you’ve told me, Smarag is still a man-eater is he not?”

“He should be able to handle himself.” What Darriwil had said fully registered in Hirnant’s mind. “Little? When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Maybe two months ago? Why? Has something happened to him?”

“Remind me to share my notes with you. He is a fascinating case study for seedbed curse exposure in living subjects.”

“Any idea who that is?” Darriwil pointed to a hulking figure, covered by the canvas robes of an ascetic monk. The two knights watched his tail begin to beat against the ground as the Erdtree flared back to life.

“He said something about a promise kept but not much more.” Floh stopped the pacing he’d started well before Darriwil had arrived as the tree was restored to life. The golden fog barring its entrance dissipated and Leon emerged, half supporting a tall androgynous figure with reddish blond hair, using a stone hammer as a makeshift cane. The monk immediately dove towards the pair. Floh and Darriwil quickly drew their swords but the monk skidded to a halt in front of Leon, sniffing the person beside him.

“Marika?!” The God extended their hand petting the monk’s head.

“No longer, brother.” If that was the god of order and the monk was their brother… Darriwil dropped his sword, his knees trembling. That was Maliketh. Oh stars, he’d just tried to fight Maliketh. Floh put his sword away much more calmly. He’d known! Floh had known and had still been willing to fight MALIKETH! HAD HE LOST HIS MIND?! Leon was less of a surprise. He’d suspected something like this might happen. The horns suited him.

“I missed you, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Maliketh’s tail wagged as the god scratched his ears.

“I apologize for leaving thee alone for so long.” The god took a quick moment to survey those present, three bloodhound knights, two living, one spirit ash, one dragon in human guise, and one beastman (Maliketh). All men as far as the god could tell. They noticed as their consort began to speak to the spirit ash in the silent language of the bloodhound knights.

“They want in, they say it’s necessary to the ritualistic nature of power transference for us to have children.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?”

“I don’t care who is involved as long as you are a part of it as well.”

“May I ask what exactly I am to be involved in? I believe I may have asked to be a part of whatever this is under a false assumption.” They smiled sweetly at the two men’s surprise. The god of order knew as many languages as there were in the lands between. There would be no secrets kept in their presence.

“I only very recently became what I am now,” the mage answered, “and knew very little of what this body was capable of. We were unsure whether or not I could bear children, but I had my first menses two weeks ago. I’m an adherent to the primordial crucible, so I thought it would be best to mix the seed of many, all thinking life intermingled to try for my first. Your brother also wanted to ensure that you were unharmed.”

“I see no pests.”

“Their reproductive systems are incompatible with those of mammals.” So he would’ve considered it.

“So then I am to be one of many sires of thy children.”

“Yes, that is my wish.”

“You have a problem with that?” The spirit ash growled, ensuring the god of order understood it to be a threat.

“No, I can understand it as an act of ritual. The logic aligns with the god it is thy wish to honor.” Ritual was important to them. It was fervor structured, bound to order. Even rituals conducted in service to chaos bowed to order by their very nature. The god unbound the black prisoner’s cloth tied about their waist. “I would have thee first, as a consummation of our partnership, though I welcome thy vassal if he wishes to join us.” Floh nodded, holding tight to Leon’s hand. Hmm, so that was the one their consort truly loved. An interesting choice, but understandable given their circumstances.

Well, not that the god could talk, the years had turned their body from flesh to brittle stone, like the ancient bodies of beast men that had become part of the stone structures of Farum Azula. It was a beautiful city, a shame they had to destroy it during their conquest.

“Well then, strip for me.” The god sat upon the Elden Throne as they waited, languidly stroking their cock. To their great disappointment only one pair of eyes rested upon them. Only their consort watched as they brought themself to their full hardness. The rest watched the mage as he removed his robes. They could see why they did. The mage had obviously organized this, but disrobed with almost virginal awkwardness. It cut a hilarious contrast when taken against his monstrous appearance. He was probably blushing like a princess underneath that thick fur. It made the god want to bend him in half and cram their cock so far into his cunt that he saw stars.

The sovereign eternal beckoned for Leon to join them upon the Elden throne. Floh followed cautiously, he knew Leon would have to serve as consort if he wanted to become king, but that didn’t mean he trusted the god of order any more with the sorcerer’s well being. The god spread their legs.

“Come sit.” Leon hesitated, glancing furtively at Floh.

“Excuse my presumptuousness, your majesty but might I join you?” Floh didn’t normally like to speak formally, but he knew how when pressed.

“By all means.” The god leaned themself onto one of the arms of the throne. Floh sat himself against the opposite arm, entwining their legs and pressing their cocks together. He gave them both a few good strokes to get himself going. The sovereign eternal moaned appreciatively. Floh watched as Leon’s cock rose to full attention as well. The god of order beckoned for him once again. This time the mage began to ascend the throne. He held himself over both of their ducks for a moment, before sitting himself down, taking both of them in. The stretch was glorious as he rode them both. Floh’s of course was massive as always, filling him deeply and knocking the air out of him, but the god’s was rock solid, mercilessly grinding over his most sensitive part of his inner walls as if they’d already been partners for years. Floh began to kiss the back of his neck and shoulders while the god brought his hand to their tits. They felt strange, their skin was too smooth and cold to be true skin, but their tits were soft like true flesh, in comparison to the swell of hard muscle underneath. Floh turned the mage’s face to his side to kiss him while the god of order replaced him at his neck, kissing and sucking down to his collarbone.

“Such a good boy, taking both our cocks.” Floh made sure to sign the words in the god of order’s view. “Why don’t you let them hear you? Show them just how hungry their consort is for them?” Floh looked the god of order in the eye before biting down on the back of the mage’s neck. He moaned loudly and clenched around them both, making the eternal sovereign hiss. So the knight intended to remind them who the sorcerer belonged to. He could keep him, they would be rejoining their Queen soon enough, if she would have them. They had far more they needed to repent for this time. However, in a public display of prowess like this, they refused to be outdone by a mere dog.

“I think thine praise comes too readily, sir. He hath many more cocks to take besides ours. Save thy praise for when he lies bloated with all of our seed, swollen with our children.” The sovereign eternal gave a particularly rough thrust upwards and the sorcerer whimpered. “It is thy wish for thine womb to be made a crucible is it not? A crucible requires ample raw material.” They spilled into him, sitting back to watch as the knight also finished inside of him. The sorcerer panted with need, still plugged up with the knight’s cock.

“Who do you want next?” Floh signed as obviously as possible for the benefit of the group.

“M-Maliketh.” He was still mostly lucid. That was good. Floh could already see Maliketh’s hard cock peeking out of his robes. With a weapon like that, he knew that wouldn’t be the case for long.

“Would you like your turn now, Father?” The priest nodded his head, discarding his own robes.

“I shall fulfill my end of the bargain. My seed for my sibling’s life.” He spoke his answer solemnly, but the way his tail was wagging it was clear he looked forward to more than repaying his debt.

The sorcerer was a strange one. Upon discovering that Maliketh was the one who guarded the rune of death, Leon had immediately begun to bargain. The death of the demigods was used to warriors begging for their lives before him, however he was completely flummoxed when this tarnished had begged to be fucked silly instead. They had built up a decent rapport, the omen had been bringing him deathroot fairly consistently, despite his apparent lack of benefit for the act. The shadow didn’t see any real reason not to fuck him. It was not customary for priests among the beastmen to practice celibacy, and if it meant his dear sibling’s suffering would finally come to an end, he would gladly do it.

The spectral Bloodhound Knight helped ease his lover off the throne, leaving him on the ground, dripping with cum and slick. Leon began to grind his dick against the ornately carved stone floor, desperate for even a little bit of friction.

“There’s no need for that.” Maliketh positioned himself on top of the tarnished, pulling his back flush with his chest. “I’ll see thee sated before long.”

Maliketh’s cock was the largest Leon had ever taken. Even the Magma Wyrm hadn’t stretched him as wide and as deep as the Beastman. He pistoned in and out at a punishingly fast pace. Leon screamed in pleasure, clawing desperately at the ground.

“More! Please, more!” Someone brought a smooth, stone-like cock to his mouth and he eagerly swallowed it down as Maliketh continued to pound into him. They came down his throat and he eagerly swallowed around them. The second they pulled out Floh replaced them, fucking his throat savagely. He almost cried with happiness as both Floh and Maliketh came. He was already so full, he could feel Maliketh’s cum leaking from between his thighs, but he desperately wanted more.

A long forked tongue snaked between his legs, licking Maliketh’s spend from his fur.

“Both?” Leon faintly heard an unfamiliar voice ask. Then he felt two dicks, both studded with glintstone, enter him. He threw his head back as the crystals dragged along his inner walls, still sensitive from taking Maliketh. He was flipped onto his back with scaly, clawed hands. Smarag had shifted partially back into his true form, his cheeks split open to his jaw bone, exposing dozens of sharp fangs and horns extended up and back from his temples, his tail whipped back and forth behind him. The dragon licked into Leon’s mouth. His forked tongue tickled the back of his throat. “Delicious.” Hirnant shoved the dragon back and sat himself on Leon’s cock.

“Don’t make me muzzle you.” Hirnant yanked Smarag to his face, holding him by the horns. The dragon hummed in pleasure.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” Smarag leaned forward, pressing himself against Hirnant’s mouth.

The two of them were merciless, Smarag roughly scraping out his insides and Hirnant riding him as if his life depended on it. Smarag came first, his twin dicks filling Leon even further before he roughly pulled himself out. The mage bucked upwards in shock forcing his cock even deeper into Hirnant. The knight shouted, seeing stars as Leon bottomed out, and came onto his own stomach.

The mage was now sticky and oversensitive, his dick weeping and his cunt leaking, still begging to be filled. He was on the verge of tears now, still desperate for more. Careful hands propped him upright and gently stroked his cock until he came, collapsing onto their shoulder. “You’ve been so good for us little mage, only one more before you can rest.” Leon dug his claws into Darriwil’s arm in fear. The knight hissed in pain.

“More,” his throat was sore from both his screams and the thorough fucking it had been subjected to but still he begged, “please don’t stop, I need more.” In his sex addled mind he felt he would die if he didn’t have a cock inside him within the next minute.

“Turn him around.” Maliketh indicated for Darriwil to hold the mage facing outward. The very embodiment of death held Leon by his forehead and let his cock rest on his cheek. “Thy body is at its limit Tarnished. Thou shalt rest when you have received the bloodhound’s seed. However, until then you may slake thy thirst with mine.” He released the mage, who immediately began attempting to swallow him down. Maliketh looked to Darriwil, “Hurry, I do not think I can restrain myself for very much longer.”

Darriwil quickened his pace, moving much faster than his preferred languid one. He couldn't take his eyes off the bearer of destined death. Maliketh stood perfectly still, a paragon of self control as the mage desperately sucked him off. It clearly wore on him though. Leon’s rough tongue offered incredible friction against the shadow’s cock, making Maliketh tightly grip his shoulders to stabilize himself. “Please hurry, I’m close.” Maliketh looked pleadingly down at Darriwil. That look made him come right then and there. Maliketh came as well, shuddering into the mage. Leon attempted to swallow as much as he could, but it was too much and he was utterly exhausted. As the two of them withdrew, he felt a set of hard, stony hands grab one of his arms and a set of broad, callused ones grabbed the other.

It seemed like Floh was saying something to the gathered men but Leon was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“Anybody here know if their species’ gestation period is any different from a human’s or an omen’s?” Floh asked as he helped lift the mage to get him cleaned up.

“Dragons generally lay their eggs around three to four weeks after sex.” Smarag briefly spat out Hirnant’s cock to answer.

“My understanding is that for most inter-species couplings, among dragons at least, gestation method will depend on the carrier rather than the sire.” Hirnant clarified as the dragon went down on him again. “That is, if anything took.”

“It did.” The God of Order spoke with utmost confidence. “And so it was on my wedding night each time before as well. The god shall be wed and an heir conceived. Such is the order of the world.”

“It isn’t your order any longer.” Floh growled.

“It is not,” the sovereign eternal huffed, “however, it was a ritual retained in the order our lord established.” The god took a moment to get a better grip on Leon’s arm. “I would have words with thee to discuss what that shall mean for the three of us.”

The god of order took the knight and their consort to their private baths. The pools had been sized large for the sake of accommodating… Godfrey. Their heart twinged with regret. They had summoned him back to life and for what? To merely use him as a shield while they were bound/imprisoning the traitor. They knew Godfrey would lay his life at their feet, he had done it hundreds of times in the past. But yet, they could never have allowed him to take his place at their side. He had too much of the crucible’s savagery within him. The mage, who began to come to as he was placed in the chill of the bath, served as an emissary of the same. However, while he had merely been imparted with an insatiable drive to create life, Godfrey was driven to end it. The God of Order had bound that bloodlust, dampening it for a time, but that was what had driven Godfrey to lose the blessing of Grace. He was never truly himself, never truly happy unless he was half naked and soaked in the blood of a worthy opponent. He had shackled himself for them, but in doing so, had lost his purpose.

If the god of order could do things over, they could not say that they would be content loving him as a mortal. They could not imagine the two of them sharing a home and raising their sons before eventually growing old and dying. Theirs was the will to power, there was no world in which they could have been happy without asserting their will over the very universe, but perhaps, there was a world where they had never met. A world where a warrior, more beast than man, still tore his way through the badlands. Perhaps in that world, a warrior could still come to love a fallen monarch hewn from stone.

They hadn’t expected to remain stone once the Elden Ring had been restored and their body made whole. But yet as they lowered themself into the bath as well, their skin still looked and felt exactly like marble. Maybe this was yet another penance. You who spurned your own kin as if your heart was granite, shall live another eternity with flesh as hard as stone. Although perhaps this was an element of their consort’s new order. The god would have to begin their study of the ring anew. They already suspected much had changed, but the exact details wouldn’t be elucidated until they began their examination of the sacred script. Rewriting the sacred laws of the universe was difficult. One was never sure if something that looked good on parchment would function well, or even the way it was intended once implemented. Their own excision of the rune of death had birthed the undead after all. Though they had made a convenient binary opposition to place their order as the one true good.

Binary! They smacked their fist into their hand as they realized it, drawing the attention of the Bloodhound knight. Their order was one of binary states! There was good and there was evil, there was the Golden Order and there was heresy. There was man and there was woman. The mage had been correct. They could not fully re-combine, because to do so would have gone against the order they’d established. So they had been trapped in that awful twinned state. They had been so utterly convinced of their own righteousness that they had completely written themself out of their own order. It was so pathetic they had to laugh.

“What is so amusing, my sovereign?” The god saw how Floh grit his teeth as he signed the honorific. One with a distaste for authority. A funny choice for a man-made shadow.

“Th- you need not use such titles with me anymore. The crown that was once mine now rests on the head of our consort,” the god indicated the cum soaked omen. Leon nodded.

“They’ve given me their right to act as sovereign.”

“And what did you have to trade?” Floh growled side-eyeing the former sovereign eternal.

“The mending of my body and the resolution of the conflict within my being was payment enough.”

“You’re not going to decide one day that it isn’t?”

“I am that which itself is Order, Faith and Will are my hammer and forge. I am bound by my word as if by golden shackles.”

“So in the parlance of mortals, you pinky promise that you won’t stab Leon the minute his back is turned.” The knight was clearly unconvinced.

“I have no more desire to rule this blighted kingdom. My children are dead, my legacy stained by my own hand, I have grown weary of it all. I accept that by fate I must serve as a vessel for order, but that is the extent of what I wish to do. Although, I will also gladly continue to sire our lord’s children, if that is his wish.”

“What do you intend to do now?” The mage asked. He was also clearly suspicious.

“I intend to return to Liurnia and beg my wife to forgive me.”

“And your daughter?” The god could not understand why their consort would ask them such a thing.

“I suppose I might ask for absolution at her grave, yes. So many cried for Godwyn, but few aside from yourself shed tears for dear Ranni.”

“You are aware she’s still alive right?”

“What?”

“I also don't hold very much fondness for her either. Last time I was at Caria manor I threw a dung pot through her chief preceptor’s window and she shot me with an icecrag for disturbing her peace.”

“My daughter is alive?!”

“Well in the same way that Godwyn is dead I guess. Her body is kaput but she managed to put her soul inside a customized marionette soldier.”

“So then I might yet tell my daughter that I love her.” The god was overcome. They had made so many mistakes, led so many they loved to their deaths, but they at least had one more chance to salvage their relationship with their daughter.

Both Leon and Floh watched in shock as the god of order began to cry. Neither felt much sympathy for them exactly. They had been responsible for thousands of years of oppression, they had ruled the lands between with grasp so tight they had been believed to be their ruler eternal. That was what made it so shocking, that tears could fall from stone. They hadn’t always been a god, they had been a person once. A person that had chosen to instate a broken order, but still a person. That was the most frightening part about them really, a person had done all of that. A person who wept at the chance to see their daughter again.

“You may leave if you wish. Your duty to me is done. If I have need for you, I know where I may find you.”

“Not yet, I- I wish to prepare myself first. Rennala understood part of my nature, but now I am whole. I am neither Marika nor Radagon, nor am I the wielder of the black knife that came before them both. I am their distillate. Rennala…” the god sighed. “Rennala loved Radagon. Now that I am myself, I have no way of knowing whether she will love me. Of course that is assuming she will even forgive me.”

“You are truly a separate person from them?”

“I retain both their memories, and my own personality was formed from theirs, but yes I am distinct.” The mage rubbed the back of his neck. He would probably regret saying it but…

“Then I suppose you cannot be held fully accountable for the actions of your predecessors, provided you make no attempt to repeat them. Rennala was wronged by Marika and Radagon, whereas your first act will be to seek reconciliation for sins that were not your own. Hopefully that will count for something.”

“And what of you?” The god asked. “Any tarnished who would become Elden Lord, must have some opinions regarding what my order has done. One who willingly chose to take on aspects of the crucible so fully that they forever live within their flesh, must have particularly strong ones. Will you ever forgive me for the transgressions of my forebears?”

“As I said, provided it is not your desire to repeat them. Though I would also ask that you actively endeavor to undo them as well.”

“And you?” The god turned towards Floh. “We are to share the same lover, be parents to the same children. I would hear your thoughts as well.” Only one other person had ever thought to ask Floh his opinion before, the man who sat in his lap, resting comfortably against his chest.

“I’ll be honest, I trust you about as much as I trust a knife at my throat and I’m probably never going to care about you the same way I care about Leon, but feel free to try and prove me wrong.”

“So then I face trials in all directions, just as always.” The god rose from the cold water. “If you’ll excuse me, I ought to begin considering names. I imagine you both wish to be together in privacy, my dear consorts.” The corner of their mouth twitched for just a moment as they turned to leave.

“So what do we do when they inevitably try to kill us?” Floh asked.

“Well there’s always Miquella.” Floh remembered the massive hand that fell from that cocoon, its fingers seeming to grasp even in sleep. He remembered a young man with violet eyes, who smiled like a snake determining whether or not you were too large for it to swallow.

“I still don’t know whether or not he’d be worse.” Floh scratched his head. The devil they knew or the devil they didn’t, it was a real fucking conundrum. Sure the god of order was bad, but Leon and Floh had hundreds of years worth of knowledge telling them exactly how. The empyrean of dreams might’ve been more immediately sympathetic, but he was a complete and utter mystery.

“I suppose if worst comes to absolute worst, there’s always Ranni. Though you can really only throw shit through someone’s window so many times before you’ve permanently damaged your relationship with them.”

“I guess you’re right.” Floh thought for a second. “Maybe if you promise to ‘actively endeavor’ not to throw shit through her window again.”

“Oh shut up.” Leon kissed him. It felt strangely heightened, maybe because of the mage’s comparative heat against the cold water. Floh held the back of Leon’s head, luxuriating in it, tired, but not wanting it to end. When they finally pulled apart Floh stroked his cheek with his thumb. Then all at once he realized something. His hand was no longer glowing.

He stared, not daring to believe it. Leon’s eyes slid open.

“So your hair is black.” Floh laughed, no longer as much of a harsh hiss after so much recent practice.

“That’s all you have to say to this?”

“Ye who lie bound in ash and starlight draught shall be once again returned to flesh.” Leon smiled. “It’s much easier to enforce policy with universal law than it is with written ones. Though it may be an abuse of my power to have done so, I believe I am entitled to this little bit of selfishness.” The only part of Floh that still glowed softly were his eyes, still a rich, blood red. “You’re even more beautiful in color.”

“You’re a fucking maniac you know that?”

“The maniac you fell in love with.” The two of them heard a crash and then the sound of a hawk and the god of order cursing more fouly than any soldier or criminal either of them had ever met.

“You left all the other ashes in your pack didn’t you?”

“Oops.”

“How many did you manage to find again?”

“Fifty eight.” The mage winced.

“Hope your consort doesn’t mind house guests.”