Sacrifice - Chapter Two

So. Here's chapter 2 of Sacrifice. Enjoy and crit, and stuff. I think I fixed all my typos and/or various other mistakes, but if you spot one, do point it out!

Chapter 2

Baal stared at the boy lying unconscious in the bed and frowned. He remembered what that High Priestess had said; he remembered what she had called after them. She’d called the boy a catamite, a whore. It made his anger rise just thinking about it. Baal swiftly smothered it. It would do him no good to be angry now, not after he’d left the mortal woman alone. He closed his eyes, wincing. She had stabbed him in the heart. He still had the athane to prove it. Speaking of—Baal opened his eyes and looked down to the blade in his left hand. The black handle was smooth and well-worn, the blade silver.

He placed it on the table to left, between him and the bed, but kept his hold on the handle. He needed to go speak to the other one, needed to seek an audience with the regent. Savita’s fate was in his hands now; he’d made the promise, swore to find the prince’s elder brother, and so he had. He’d found him, and now here he was, watching the boy sleep. Verlisi’s Emperor would speak with him. That was why he’d gone to him before he went to the Savitan regent.

“Rest well,” he said and picked up the athane, tucking it away in his belt. One last long, lingering look at the boy known as Tai and he sighed, turning away. He needed to go and speak with Santeri now, before the mortal though it would be amusing to try and have him killed. He wouldn’t touch the boy; they needed him, more now than ever before. If they lost Tai before Baal got them both back to Savita, then everything was lost.

Baal shook his head and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. The two men standing guard glanced towards him before their focus was back on the hall. Baal approved; at least someone would be watching Tai. He might be a god, but he couldn’t do everything. He wasn’t omnipotent, wasn’t omniscient. He didn’t know everything and any power he had was limited—at least, at the moment. Baal had broken divine law; he had interfered with mortal affairs. But it was needed. He had to fix the Savitan Queen’s mistakes, lift a curse that was almost a thousand years old. He’d known he was going to break with tradition; he’d known that when their father had asked for help, when he’d answered that call.

“Watch him closely,” he said as he pushed away from the door. “Let me know if he wakes while I’m not there.” Both mortals nodded and Baal turned away, heading off down the hall. Speaking to Santeri would do him good. He needed a small, temporary distraction from Tai.

Several minutes later, he was standing outside the double doors into the throne room. When Ball pushed them open and stepped into the large room, he found Santeri standing by the dais, speaking to a servant. He took his time crossing the room, took notice of how the servant glanced his way before he rushed off. Baal was used to that. He ignored it in favour of the regent.

“Baal,” Santeri called, smiling. “How is he?”

“Healed,” Ball replied, coming to a stop a few feet short of the man. “It cost me, though.” He jerked his head to the left, turned to look out the window. “It was worth it, of course. We need him.”

Santeri sighed and moved to stand beside the god. “I’ll make someone available for you,” the mortal said after a moment, placing a hand on Baal’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll need it.”

Baal didn’t reply straight away, thinking about the boy and, gods, the entire situation they now found themselves in. “She was going to kill him, Santeri,” he told the mortal. He felt the man’s grip on his shoulder tighten. “I couldn’t just sit there; I had to save him. If he dies, everything we’ve been working towards will be lost.”

The mortal emperor was silent for a long moment before he sighed again and removed his hand. Baal glanced towards him. Santeri gazed back, frowning slightly, and then he turned away, mounting the steps to the dais and approaching the throne. Baal turned to follow.

“I know, Baal,” he muttered, sparing the god a worried glance. “Believe me, I know.”

He stared up at the mortal and then cast a glance about the throne room. It was empty, and Baal was glad for that. What he had to say next was not for just any mortal ears. Santeri was the only mortal Baal could discuss this with; they’d been plotting this for a long time. Santeri, Velius and himself; they’d been biding their time, waiting for the right moment and it seemed the time had come to put a few pieces into play. Starting with Tai and his little brother—a brother Baal knew he had no idea he had.

“And now we must wait,” Baal said as he went up the steps and paused before the mortal. “There is so much that he needs to be taught, so much that needs to be done.” He fingered the hilt of the blade at his waist, frowning again. “I only have a month.”

Santeri closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he leaned back in the throne. “I wish we had more time.”

“So do I, Santeri, so do I. We must make do with the time we have; Velius tells me we need to hurry.”

The Verlisian Emperor opened his eyes and frowned at him. “How does he contact you in the first place?”

He snorted and moved to sit on the arm of the throne, leaning back against it. They sat like that for a long moment, Baal gazing about the throne room while the mortal stared up at him. He didn’t react when Santeri placed a hand on his thigh, merely closed his eyes. Baal rubbed a hand over his face, eyes still firmly closed. He needed to focus, needed to remember why he was there—and that was not to seduce the boy currently unconscious in his rooms. Baal chose to focus on Santeri instead, at least for the moment.

“Do you really want to know that, Santeri?” he asked and finally opened his eyes, turning the dark purple-red gaze on the man beside him. The Verlisian Emperor shook his head, lifting the hand off Baal’s thigh. “I thought so.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

Baal winced. “You just had to ask me that question, didn’t you?”

Santeri snorted and twisted in his seat to fix Baal with a narrow-eyed look. Baal stared back at the grey-green eyes of the mortal sitting beside him. “Of course,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. Baal switched his attention to the mortal’s hair, watching the way the blue-black strands fell against each other when Santeri removed his hand. “I take it you’ve told the guards to watch him?”

“What else would I do?” Baal snapped, annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest, and then crossed one leg over the other. He knew the mortal would wonder how he stayed balanced on the arm of the throne. “Of course I told them to; Taika is too important to lose. I didn’t want to risk anything.”

The mortal fell silent, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m tired, Baal. I want this to be other with already.”

“You are not the only one.”

They fell silent again, sitting there together on the throne in the Verlisian throne room. None of the servants dared to enter the room while he was there, and Baal really couldn’t blame them. He was intimidating to most of them, and Santeri had warned them away unless specifically ordered to go to him, would likely tell them to stay away now that Tai was there. Baal had no intention of touching the boy—at least, not without permission. He needed that before he could do anything, especially in the area his power resided in; death, blood.... and desire. Baal had no idea if the other gods and goddesses followed the same kind of rules, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask any of them to find out. He was, to put it bluntly, currently banished from their realm and therefore earthbound. He couldn’t go back, restricted as he was—most of his abilities were lost to him. He’d probably regain them once he was done with what he was doing here, once he was done returning the Savitar family to the Savitan throne.

“I should return to him,” he said, glancing towards Santeri. “He may wake at any moment and I’d rather be there when he does so.” He watched the mortal watch him. Santeri inclined his head, giving him the ghost of a smile. “He may...panic...if he is alone.”

Santeri chuckled and gestured for Baal to stand. “I understand,” he said, crossing one leg over the other and watching as Baal stood slowly, uncrossing his legs and slipping off the arm of the throne. “I imagine he will be...very worried. You should go to him.”

Baal nodded, uncrossing his arms to give the man a stiff, shallow bow. “By your leave, Your Majesty.” He straightened up and gave Santeri another nod. The mortal turned his head away from him, effectively dismissing him. It didn’t bother Baal that much; it was just Santeri. The man was a good man, but that didn’t stop him from being arrogant and every bit the Emperor he was raised to be. Baal turned and went back down the dais steps, crossing the room again and leaving by the same doors he’d entered by. He went back to his rooms, acknowledging the two guards standing on either side of the door before slipping through it and into the room.

Tai was where he’d left him, asleep on the bed. The boy was stirring, though, but only a little. It seemed Baal had returned just at the right moment. He removed the athane from his belt and placed it on the table, this time leaving it there, before he took a seat in one of the plush armchairs beside said table. Once seated, he watched the boy and waited for him to wake up.

His chest hurt, that’s all Tai could take notice of as he groaned, shifting his position slightly. But it wasn’t just his chest that hurt, it was his heart. It hurt, but not in the metaphorical way. It hurt, physically hurt. Tai groaned again, tossing and turning before he bolted upright in what he now knew to be a bed and grabbed for the hilt of the athane only to have his hand close on a fistful of air. There was no athane in his chest, no feel of metal kissing his heart, lodged in a lung. He blinked, and then, wide-eyed, he took in surroundings. Firstly, he was no longer blindfolded. Secondly, this was not the temple he knew so well. This was a stranger's room, a stranger’s bed--and, if he was going to be honest, this definitely wasn't some peasant's home. Tai sat still, the pain in his chest dulled, somewhat confused for a long moment. Where in the name of the gods was he?

The room he was in was a sea of burnished gold and midnight blue with dark, royal purple accents. It was rich and gaudy, though not so gaudy as to be ridiculous--it was just enough to work well. Tai stared, blinked once, twice. Long lashes flickered down as he squeezed his eye shut for a moment, breathing a prayer. They opened a moment later, revealing the steady dark blue gaze as it scanned the room. Tai was in shock, somewhat. Not only was he alive, but he appeared to be in a nobleman's home, in a bedroom that seemed to echo his appearance. He couldn't help it; he started laughing. He was alive. Somehow, amazingly and impossibly real, he was alive. How was he alive?

“I see that you are awake,” some said and he froze, gaze flickering around the room before it landed on the man seated in a plush armchair. There was a table beside the chair. Tai’s gaze slid sideways, taking in the athane sitting on that table. He stared at it, touching his chest and feeling no blade sticking out of it. He frowned, rubbing the place where he knew it had been, and slid his gaze back to the man.

“Where am I?” he asked, frown deepening. He felt...lost, set adrift. What should he do now? He was definitely not at the temple, and there would definitely be no High Priestess to trick him into playing sacrifice again. He did not want to die. He had never wanted to die. Tai leaned back against the bed head, narrowed gaze on the man across from him. “Who are you?”

The man blinked. “You don’t remember my voice?” he asked, leaning forwards. Tai’s gaze darted to the athane and back. He wasn’t sure if he liked it being so close to the stranger in his room. He shook his head; no, he didn’t know that voice. Or did he? “I saved you; I was the one who interrupted the High Priestess, I took you from the temple, and I brought you here. My name is Baal.”

“Where is here?” Tai demanded, more worried than afraid. Where had he been taken? How far from the temple was he? More importantly, though... Why was he dead? He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging on the beads still threaded through his hair. Tai groaned and let his head drop forwards, catching it in both of his hands, slid one down to cover the place on his chest where he knew the athane had been buried to the hilt. “My chest hurts...”

Baal’s voice washed over him, soft and reassuring; “You are in the Verlisian Royal palace, within the walls of the capitol.” Tai raised his head a little, just enough to glimpse the man sitting in a chair by the table. He blinked. “The Temple of Eawan has no sway within these walls.”

Tai brought his head up, meeting the other man’s gaze. “She can’t get to me here?” he asked, blinking at the man. The hand on his chest slid lower, and he realised with a start that he wasn’t wearing the robe his so-called mother had forced him into. With a smothered little yelp, Tai tugged the silk sheet up a little bit. “Wait, you said I’m where?”

“You’re in Verlisian Royal palace,” the man said, pushing himself up and out of the chair. Tai froze, staring at him as Baal crossed the room to stand beside the bed. “Listen to me, Taika. She was lying to you, had been since you were brought to that temple.”

He looked away, covering his face with one hand, the other still holding the sheets up and against his stomach. Tai didn’t want to believe that. Baal was lying; he had to be. The High Priestess was his mother, after a fashion. She would never have lied to him. The feeling of betrayal, of a blade buried deep in his chest had Tai jerking away from the man standing over him. That betrayal cut into him like the athane’s blade had pierced his chest, cutting into his heart and spearing his lung. He didn’t want to believe it.

“You know betrayal now,” Baal said, his tone somewhat sad. Tai didn’t look at him. He flinched when the man sat beside him on the bed. “There is something you must know,” he was told after a moment, “something that you need to be told.”

Tai went still, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “Alright, what do I need to be told? What’s this thing I must know?”

Baal was silent for a long moment, shifting slight. Tai glanced towards him in time to see the man take hold of his right wrist and tug his hand away from his face. “Your real name is Tumaini Savitar,” the man said, lowering his voice. “You are the Crow Prince and heir to the Savitan throne.”

He stared at Baal for a moment before he jerked his wrist out of the man’s loose grip. “What?” he snapped, pressing back against the head of bed. “Are you insane? The entire continent knows about the Savitan royal family—they’re dead. They are all dead!”

They stared at each other for a long time, unaware of the way the light was slanting through the window or the bustle of servants outside in the hall—at least, Tai was unaware. He didn’t know about Baal. Tai was the first to break eye contact, dropping his gaze down and to the side. He could still feel Baal’s eyes on him, though.

“No,” Baal said, his tone stern as he took Tai’s chin in hand and brought his face back around. “They’re not all dead.”

Tai closed his eyes. He refused to believe this, refused to feel hope--the fact that his family might be alive, even one member, was...enlightening. But no, no way was he royalty. He was just some nobleman's son, a nobleman who was in debt and then there was the fact that Tai had been found outside the temple, sitting on the top step near the altar. He vaguely remembered that, leaning against the cool stone and dropping pebbles through the cracked covering of the sacrifice hole. Of course, it wasn't until much later that he learned of what it really was. And of course, he didn’t really remember much before that day, either. Everything before the temple was murky and blurred. Tai didn’t know why and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know about his pre-temple past in the first place.

"Trust me, Tai," he was told after a moment, the other man’s voice dropping to a soft murmur. The hand on his chin shifted slightly, the thumb stroking over Tai’s bottom lip and then his left cheekbone. He shivered and bit his lip, trying to ignore the feelings that thumb invoked. The other hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. "Would I be here if you weren't who I say you are?"

"I'm not royalty," Tai whispered back, and even he could hear the tears that threatened to fall in his voice. He tried not to let them fall-not just yet, and definitely not in front of this man. "But if it's true that my family-- that any of them are alive... Then thank you, for the eventual reunion."

Baal chuckled, his hand following the tail of his thumb and sliding over Tai cheek, and then down his neck. It came to a stop on Tai’s right shoulder. He tensed, slitting his eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of the other man. Baal sat there, dark eyes fixed on Tai’s face. Tai swallowed and opened his eyes as the man opened his mouth to speak. He shut it a moment later and then frowned.

“Just listen to me for now, Taika,” Baal murmured, the frown marring his forehead deepening. “I have so much to teach you and we’ve only got a month, so pay attention and work with me on this. I’m not overly concerned if you don’t believe it, but we need others to believe you.” The man’s hands shifted on his shoulders and Tai squirmed. He frowned at the man, trying not to let on how uncomfortable he was with someone touching him, even if it was just hands on his shoulders. “Do you understand me, Tai?” Baal demanded, fixing him with a dark, even look. Tai nodded shakily. Alright, he could do that. Even if he hated lying, he could do that. It didn’t matter what he thought; as long as everyone else assumed he was who he said he was and that it was the truth. After all, it wasn’t really lying if he wasn’t telling them everything, right? Baal leaned forward slightly. “Good, now turn around; I want to get these beads out of your hair.”

He jerked his head up and down and he shuffled a little, tugging the sheet with him, until his back was to the other man. Behind him, Baal chuckled again, dark and lower than before, and leaned in close until his lips were near his right ear. Tai tensed and nearly flinched away but managed to contain the flinch at the last second. He forced himself not to freak out over the other man being so close. Tai could feel the man’s breath on his cheek and neck, on his earlobe. He swallowed, tugging more of the sheets over his lap and trying hard not to let Baal know he was almost blushing--almost because Tai refused to acknowledge the heat in his cheeks. Baal’s breath was moist and warm against his skin. Tai closed his eyes, fighting back another shiver. This was not the time for that, for anything really. He should really focus on what Baal was going to tell him. Yes, Tai, he told himself, focus on that.

“I’ve already seen everything, Tai,” the man whispered, “so there’s no need to be shy.”

Tai’s eyes flew open and went wide. He wouldn’t believe that he’d heard the heat in the other man’s voice, the way it had gone low and husky, hoarse. “S-shut up,” he whispered, fisting the purple and gold silk. Baal pulled away and Tai relaxed, but only slightly. “Don’t say things like that.”

The hands on his shoulders shifted away and then they were in his hair, tugging. Baal grumbled something in a language Tai couldn’t understand. He thought it sounds like swearing but he couldn’t be completely sure. “Now listen carefully,” Baal said after a moment, tugging a bead near the base of his skull out of the long strands of purple-black hair. Tai winced and let out a little his when the movement pulled on his scalp. Baal dropped the little gold bead onto the bed to their right; Tai could see the glittering piece of hair ornamentation in his peripheral vision. “If you’re going to reclaim that throne, you’ll need to know how to run a kingdom and how to fight—on the battlefield and in the war room.” Another bead was tugged out; it joined the first on the bed. “That means you’ll need to know how to plan out a battle, Tai. I can help you with this.”

“...Alright,” Tai said, a little uncertain, and then he hissed. “Ouch! That hurt.”

Another bead joined the first two. “I’m a god, Tai; my realm is death, desire, and blood.” Two more beads joined the others. Tai listened to the softer clicking sounds as they hit a bead and bounced onto the bed. “That means I know my way around a battle.”

Tai flushed darker. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

Baal leaned in again, putting his lips by Tai’s left ear this time. “Oh?” the god whispered, his tone had gone dark and seductive. Tai closed his eyes, tried to ignore that tone. He almost succeeded. Almost, because he had to admit it; Baal was attractive. “What was it that you were thinking, then?”

“N-nothing,” he whispered back and waited. Baal stayed right where he was for a long moment before he pulled back. Tai relaxed a little, letting his shoulders drop. He hadn’t even realised he’d raised them. “I was...thinking nothing...”

“If you say so,” was the reply, and Tai swore he could hear a smile in the other man’s voice. No, he told himself sternly, he’s a god. Not a man; a god. Baal removed another bead, let it join the others. Tai took the time to try and compose himself, to try and force down the darkening blush. “You will also learn to ride.”

His eyes flew open. “I don’t want to learn to ride!” he exclaimed, trying to pull away from the god. Baal held him firmly, though, and Tai barely moved an inch. He realised pretty quickly that Baal wasn’t going to let him go anywhere until he’d pulled all those tiny gold beads out of his hair. “I-I don’t even like horses...” Tai cringed; even he could hear how unconvinced of that he sounded. It was the truth, though; Tai didn’t know how to ride and he didn’t particularly like horses. They didn’t like him, either.

“You will learn how to ride,” Baal repeated, tone stern, and Tai deflated. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting out of any of this, either. Fine, he would endure it, then. “Do not argue with me on any of this, Taika. I need to teach you as much as possible before we head for Savita.”

Tai kept his mouth shut for a long moment before he sighed and turned his head slightly so he could see Baal’s face. “If I do this,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he considered his next words carefully; “will you go easy on me with the learning to ride?”

Ball blinked. “You are not worried about learning how to fight or run a country,” the god said, “but as soon as I mention learning to ride, you start to panic?” He paused, eyes flickering over Tai’s face. Tai quickly turned it away. “Now why is that?”

When Tai didn’t answer, Baal just went back to pulling the beads out of his hair. They spent several minutes in silence, contemplating their own thoughts and ideas. At least, Tai was wondering how they were going to pull this off. He was no prince; he could royally screw this up. He didn’t know what Baal was thinking, though. In his peripheral vision, the little pile of beads grew larger as the silence stretched out. He kept half an eye on it as he thought, tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth.

Would he see his mother and father again? Would he see his older sisters, and his younger siblings, too? What about his uncle and two aunts? Tai closed his eyes. Why was he thinking about his family when he could barely even remember them? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because Baal had mentioned that some of them were alive? He would find out later, then, when they went to Savita.

Baal began speaking a moment later, telling Tai all about the things he needed to learn. He told Tai how Savita’s governing system worked, and how the crown was passed down through the male line—which was very unlike a neighbouring country’s regalia, which was handed down through the female line. Verlisis, he learned, gave its crown to the eldest born. All the while, that pile of little golden beads on the bed grew. Eventually, Baal had the last one out—he’d left the two larger ones near his temples when Tai had protested the god’s attempts to remove them—and it quickly joined the rest.

Tai felt the god move all his hair off his back and push it forwards, over his left shoulder. He started to turn. “What are you doing?”

“This,” Baal said, his voice very quiet now. Tai felt fingers on his back, sliding up toward his neck before they paused, tracing something there. “This proves to everyone who you are.” He frowned, twisted his head to get a glimpse of the god’s face. The man was frowning darkly, something unreadable in his gaze. An emotion Tai couldn’t comprehend. “You will believe, one day.”

A knock on the door interrupted them and they both turned towards it. A servant stood in the doorway, door slightly jar as he stuck his head around it. When he saw that they were decent, he stepped into the room and bow. “His Majesty bides you join him for dinner.”

Baal nodded and the servant retreated, closing the door behind him. Tai stared at the door for a long moment. The god touched his shoulder. Their eyes met. “You should get dressed,” Baal suggested and stood, glancing towards the pile of gold beads. “I will give you some privacy.”

Tai hesitated, gaze flickering to the beads and then back to Baal. “What about those?”

The god smiled. “I’ll think of something.”