Tributes

Chapter Twenty Four

Inio was different from the other immortal tributes. The earlier tributes, like Fiear, hadn't been given to the god but found by him. The average tributes had been selected from the valleys which were under Tyreol control. Inio had been as a gift. She had been given from a different god who had angered Tyreol as a gift to try to soften the tensions between them. Inio wasn't entirely sure of what had happened between the two gods, but her original Master had not been one to lose people easily, which let her know it had been very serious.

She was literally halfway around the world from where she had been from. Her skin was a dark brown compared to the pinkish white colour of the valley people. Her eyes were also a darker brown than the normal tribute and her hair was black. She was so different from the pale-skinned people who resided in Tyreol's territory and that made her exotic.

At first, she had hated it. The men fetishised her and she got more attention than she liked. Then after her ascension, she had travelled the netherworlds where no one particularly cared because of the amount of variation that existed. Her ascension into immortality had been a strange one. She had walked in on a fae magic rebirth ritual by accident and sheer power of the ritual had send her out of mortal-hood. Tyreol had shrugged unconcerned, pulled her aside and told her the new rules of her being immortal.

Bound to him forever. But allowed freedom after 70 years old. A week every century, a letter every decade or when she had a child or took a bonded. That was all she had to do, but Inio would be the first to admit she forgot occasionally. She had been forced back to the castle more than once.

Fiear scolded her badly for it. It wasn't hard to send a letter and even the century was often forgiven if an excuse was given. She cared for Tyreol still. He was a good Lord and Master. But it was so easy to forget when she was in the otherworlds just how much time had passed.

Walking through a foreign castle, owned by some minor lord under a different god, she mused about the last time she had sent a message. Fiear's message to tell the Lord where she was would be enough for a year. But... she sighed. Maybe she should send one sooner, just to be safe. She wasn't planning on going for her visit either so writing more letters would give her some leeway.

Then something caught her eye. She frowned and moved, hearing the scream of a child. She moved faster, diving in from of the child as a grinning man approached with a knife. The man looked at her and frowned, not liking being stopped. The child was still sobbing behind her. 

"Out of the way, missy! Our Lord wants his dinner," purred the man, waving his hand. The child let out another sob and Inio felt something dark unfurl in his chest. 

"Dinner?" breathed Inio, "He eats children?" she clarified.

"Why not? They are only mortal," the man shrugged uncaringly. 

Inio saw red. Her next actions were brutal. The child lived. The man did not. 

---x---

Chris wasn't sure how long he was left in the dungeons. Not a full day, but longer than he ever wanted to be there. The whores were treated with brutal force, no kindness shown. Their eyes blank. Souls withered away. What they could have done to deserve this fate, Chris wasn't sure. He only prayed that while tributes were often souls who needed to escape, these were souls who deserved to be punished. But even so...

Cries of fear and pain. Moans of pleasure. And then the taunting. The creatures had not missed the fact he was there. Nor the fact he was Tyreol's tribute. Words promising what they would do to him if they were given the chance echoed around the chamber as Chris trembled in the corner.

Then Heilan appeared, glowing with power, making the dark ones shy away. He looked at Chris and offered his hand, his eyes glowing slightly. Chris didn't hesitate to take it and let the fae pull Chris to his feet. Heilan led him out of the roo and Chris followed him blankly back up into the castle. Back to where things were clean and where people were treated with respect. The whispers around him here weren't promising him pain or to break them. They were simply curious as to why he was there and not in the rooms. 

Suddenly he was pulled into another room. It was quiet and simple with nothing much in it. Helian turned him around to look at him over, brushing his clothes down. Chris just breathed, trying not to panic or react in any way before he knew what was he fate now. Still, tears rolled down his face as Heilan sat him down on a nest of blankets and gave him some bread. Helian knelt next to him and rubbed his back as he wiped his face with his sleeve. 

"Eat," Helian prompted calmly. 

Chris obeyed, devouring the bread. Like everything he had eaten in the castle, it was rich and delicious. It felt almost like sand in his mouth. He couldn't help but feel ashamed of himself but that was the lesson after all. Chris was in a far nicer cage than many were in. As he finished, Chris slumped over slightly. His tears had stopped, leaving his face stiff. 

"Sleep now. Master will deal with you in the morning," Heilan said simply, before going to leave. Chris caught his hand, pausing him.

"Why..." Chris breathed.

"Why did Master put you down there?" Heilan finished, not looking at Chris, just looking in the direction of the door, "Surely you are not that stupid as to not know the answer," he said bluntly. The words were callous, but all fae were. 

Chris shook his head. That wasn't the question he wanted to ask. He understood that at least. "I know why he showed me, but why? Why does he allow that to happen?" Chris asked, holding back tears again. It was either tears or anger at what was happening down there. He had gotten into trouble for reacting angrily easier. This time, it was just intense sadness.

"Because even as a god, Master has little choice in certain matters," Heilan said cryptically before turning again to face Chris and looking him in the eyes. "He doesn't like it, Christopher. But he accepts it as a necessary evil to appease the residents of the castle. Much as sometimes the fact that he sometimes has to whip someone to death to prove a point. Master is the god of war. He can not be seen to show mercy to anyone other than those closest to him."

Chris let go of Heilan's hand, having no real reply to that. He watched blankly as the fae left, leaving him alone in the plain room with nothing but a bed of blankets on the floor. He had been spared a night in hell, but he was nowhere near forgiven. Not yet. He understood this.

Mercy?

Tyreol would never show any to his enemies unless they pleaded on their knees and gave up their dignity and pride. What he was being shown was not mercy and he would not confuse it as such. Tyreol was simply not being crueler than he had to be. The dungeons had been a lesson. There were far worst situations to be in. He could be put in there as easily as Tyreol could accept him back into the tribute rooms. This room was so Chris could ponder that with a clear head. 

Chris could only pray that this kindness was a sign Tyreol was more inclined to the latter. He knew that came with a cost he was not certain he could pay. Not yet. But. He shuddered as flashbacks to what he had seen came back. Curling up on the blankets.

He couldn't. But he had to.