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To be a prisoner of war was the worst punishment for any self-respecting Kremnoan.
Especially when you are the crown prince of Kremnos.
After seizing Okhema, the Imperator, in her ever-growing campaign of conquest, had set her sights upon Castrum Kremnos. Mydeimos knew better than to underestimate her, word of the Imperator’s accomplishments had reached the crown prince’s ears long ago. There was something to be admired about the Imperator’s strategic genius and the forces she commanded, and in better circumstances, perhaps the two of them could have discussed strategy together. Maybe even tested themselves in a game of chess.
But that would never happen, her people do not do alliances.
The Imperator had launched a siege on Castrum Kremnos, motivated by her pursuit of the prophecy whispered by the little holy maidens of Janusopolis. Mydeimos had heard the prophecy as well, yet she was hesitant to forsake Nikador’s protection in a quest that could potentially endanger her people and their way of life. Nikador was supposed to protect them from the Black Tide, after all. Why would she risk her people’s safety for a prophecy that may not even come to pass?
She knew that, eventually, the tyrant that claimed Okhema would try to do the same to Kremnos. There was no word for “peace” in the Kremnoan dictionary, after all. Advisors tried to encourage her to overthrow Okhema before the Imperator’s forces moved, yet Mydeimos refused. At least in Castrum Kremnos they would have the advantage, with or without the light of Nikador’s blade to guide them.
So she made preparations, strategies were served as harsh military drills to thrill the masses. Yet when the time for war came, when their military expertise clashed, the Imperator emerged victorious. She had left red trails of Kremnoan blood as she personally saw to the capture of the crown prince. Mydeimos cannot even afford the honor of dying in battle, so she went willingly in order to protect the straggling survivors who were captured alongside her.
She had been isolated within Okhema’s prison, she did not know whether the survivors had been executed for the Imperator’s entertainment or if they were being kept as a bargaining chip. Food was scarce, but hunger no longer bothered her, not after the months she had once spent outcast from Kremnos before she seized her rightful throne. Yet, she never could call herself king.
The door to her cell opened, and the dimly lit room was alight with the blue flame of the Imperator’s crown. Perhaps that silly little flame is useful, as she does not need to bother lifting her head to see the tyrant.
“Stand tall, crown prince of Kremnos, Janus smiles upon you. The golden blood you bear has spared you,” the Imperator spoke, her voice strong despite her much smaller stature.
“And do you truly expect me to join your cause so easily, tyrant?” Mydeimos slowly lifted her head, just enough to unflinchingly meet the other’s gaze through her messy bangs, “I know what you are after. But Nikador’s head is not a trophy easily won.”
The Imperator seemed pleased with her response, nodding to show her acknowledgement, “You catch on quickly. Good.” She stepped towards Mydeimos, using her staff to lift the crown prince’s head by the chin, “Your ability to resist the pull of the Sea of Souls is what makes you the perfect candidate for the battle with Nikador. I know of your hesitance to lead, your unwillingness to claim the crown. So I shall propose this: Allow me to bear the title of king, and you may be my queen upon this board of fate.”
Mydeimos paused for a moment, giving a silent stare to the Imperator. She can’t decide on whether she wants to laugh at the short girl calling her her “queen”, or if she would rather knock the staff aside and stand defiantly against her. …Or perhaps, is the Imperator flirting with her? Mydei is used to settling things with combat, not with fancy words.
“...I mean my queen as in chess, you fool,” the Imperator read the thoughts behind her expression easily, her brow furrowing. Mydeimos can now see why so many fall due to underestimating her, it can be rather disarming to see her pout in a, frankly, cute way. “My offer is a simple one. You bring me Nikador’s head and their Coreflame, and I will allow your people to join my war on the Titans.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t,” the Imperator responded with confidence. “Your people long for war, if you lead then they shall certainly follow. Whether victory or defeat, they desire a bloodied path to follow. Who are you to deny them of that? To deny the very foundation of your culture, the will of your Titan?”
Mydeimos let out a long sigh. The words ring true, of course they do. No matter the future she wanted to lead her people towards, their souls will always crave the thrill of Strife.
“Good. Come along, let us bathe you in the golden waters of the Marmoreal Palace,” the Imperator held out her dainty hand, and Mydeimos took it, rising and standing tall above the Imperator as she was finally allowed out of the dark prison cell into the light of Okhema.
Mydeimos ignores the hostile glances thrown her way as they walk in silence to the baths, she knows that in this situation it is better to hold her tongue. She stays directly behind the Imperator, keeping her head high even if she is still, in this moment, a prisoner of war.
As they arrive to the upper level of baths, she sees that the Imperator was not lying when she said the waters were gold. The glittering sheen on the water momentarily draws her attention, before it then returns to the Imperator. They were alone, a clear test of how much trust can be placed in the crown prince of Kremnos. She could easily crush the Imperator’s throat, the difference between their physical strength is obvious. But she does not.
“Step forward Mydeimos, crown prince of Kremnos,” the Imperator spoke, standing at the top of the steps, golden water falling into the pool behind her.
And Mydeimos does such, standing at the bottom of the steps, lowering her head to show her acknowledgement of the Imperator’s role as a leader in this moment.
“From this day forward, you will give your mind, body, and soul to my cause, and my cause alone. Whether I aim to conquer the stars, or to extend my help to the less fortunate, you are to devote yourself to me in your entirety,” the Imperator spoke with confidence, her head held high. “You shall be my Dux Leonum, my queen upon the chessboard that is Amphoreus. Carry the honor befitting of a prince, and wash away your past allegiances in water blessed by Phagousa.”
Mydeimos stepped forward to the bath that the Imperator had indicated to with her staff, watching as the glittering water lapped at her sabatons. Does she really have to get in while clothed? Is that some weird piece of Okheman culture? The Imperator taps her staff against the floor, so with a slight reluctance, Mydeimos waded in further and seated herself in the warm bath, feeling it soak into the little clothing she did wear.
She could feel the Imperator eyeing her, walking along the edge and looking down at her. Yet Mydeimos does not flinch under her sharp gaze, even as she is examined for any weakness or signs of betrayal.
“Dux Leonum,” the Imperator spoke, as if she was testing the title on her tongue. “You may be at ease. I may be a tyrant, but I do not punish those who behave,” she began to make her way down the steps between the baths, then into the bath itself, the water creating small ripples around her mismatched legs as if it shook beneath her strides. “I am the Empress of the Holy City, but I am also Cerydra of Hyperborea, just as you are Mydeimos of Kremnos.”
Mydei watched as Cerydra sat with her in the seating of the bath, unphased by the water that soaked and darkened her clothes. It’s a game of trust, both of them equally observant to the other’s movements. Mydei can tell that she is trying to build up rapport while also upholding both of their statuses as leaders of their people, even with no witnesses.
“Let’s play chess then sometime, Cerydra. I had always wondered what a game against you would be like,” Mydei leaned back, draping her arm over the back of the seating. She could see the slight twitch of Cerydra’s nerves at being spoken to so casually. She’ll have to get used to it, Mydei isn’t one for being all fancy and frou-frou.
“You play, Dux Leonum? How brave of you to challenge me,” Cerydra crossed her arms, the flame atop her crown flickering with interest she didn’t let slip upon her face. She’s treating this conversation like a game in its own right, Mydei can tell that much.
“Well, perhaps not professionally, but I at least know the basics. If I lose, perhaps you should teach me,” Mydei chuckled, feeling an invisible weight lift off her shoulders now that she was speaking to Cerydra as a person instead of as the concept of a tyrannical Imperator.
“Hmm… Now may be the best time for your first lesson then, I would much prefer it if we could have an even duel when the time comes,” Cerydra nodded, summoning a blue chessboard at her fingertips. And before Mydei could respond, to tease by asking if Cerydra had already accepted her first loss then, Cerydra launched into a long, drawn-out lesson on the basics of chess.
And…
She hates to admit it, but Mydei feels almost fond at this display of humanity from the Imperator. To see her speak on something she’s clearly passionate about, how her fire grows brighter and hotter as she speaks. It’s embarrassing how quickly she’s taken to accepting the Imperator’s presence and strong personality, she shouldn’t be yielding so easily, but Mydei would be a liar if she said that the tyrant wasn’t at least a little cute.
Mydei nods along to what Cerydra says, taking mental notes on the important parts of her “lesson”. She sits comfortably, sitting with her legs widely spread, a contrast to Cerydra’s more compact and composed way of sitting, but even with her dainty legs crossed she was exuding just as much confidence as Mydei.
Before either of them knew it, an hour had passed and an advisor came to retrieve Cerydra, the poor worker far less confidant than either one of them.
“Our lesson will have to end here then, Dux Leonum. I will send for assistants to show you to your quarters, and whenever I require your attendance I shall send for you by letter, if not in person.” Cerydra then stood, composing herself, locking that passion behind the mask of the Imperator.
“Of course, Imperator,” and Mydei does the same, matching Cerydra’s behavior. She quickly understands how the other works: in private, they can be human. But to the public, they must both stand tall as unshakeable leaders.
It was a relief to see that her people were adapting well to Cerydra’s rule, despite the tension between themselves and the people of Okhema. The Imperator promised them blood and glory, and with their crown prince supporting her cause, she easily won them over to her side. Even at the eventual cost of their Titan’s life, they still cheered the loudest whenever she declared that they would be pursuing Nikador’s Coreflame and the beginning of her Flame-Chase Journey. Most days, Mydei had to participate in the discussions of strategy, sharing her knowledge of Castrum Kremnos and the Titan, she could feel the Imperator’s approving gaze on her with each word she spoke, with each exertion of her control as both the crown prince and the Imperator’s Dux Leonum.
When the day came, she was called upon to meet with Cerydra, watching the Imperator play a one-sided game of chess within the Garden of Life. “Sit, Dux Leonum,” is all the Imperator said to her, and Mydei found herself sitting down without much questioning as to why she obeyed the Imperator.
“Today is the day we finally seize the Coreflame of Strife,” the Imperator spoke, already certain of her victory. “The Kremnoan forces insist upon joining you in this battle. I trust you will bring them home safely.”
Cerydra already knew how to play Mydei’s emotions like a violin, even in such a short span of time the Imperator had already dug up Mydei’s motivations and desires for her people. It was impressive, even though Mydei stubbornly disliked being played so easily. “Of course, Imperator,” she simply nodded, playing the part she was given. She can feel people watching, observing, so she holds her tongue. Another test from the Imperator, and a display of their alliance to the people.
“I will also be in attendance, and I will provide my aid in the battle, but I expect you, Dux Leonum, to be by my side,” the Imperator let out a satisfied hum as she checkmated the opposing king with her queen piece. She expects a victory from Mydei.
“And you’re sure you can keep up?” Mydei chuckled, leaning in a bit. Just because they have to play their roles doesn’t mean Mydei has to be as stuffy as her all the time.
“Of that I am certain. Do not underestimate me.” Cerydra scoffed, grabbing her queen piece once again, even though the game was now complete.
Then Cerydra grabbed Mydei’s gloved hand, pushing the queen into her palm and using her dainty hand to close the prince’s hand around it.
“Bring me victory or die trying, Mydeimos.”
And victory is what Mydeimos brings to her Imperator.
Golden blood sprays over her muscular body as she holds up the head of the fallen Titan, hearing the cheers of her and the Imperator’s joined forces. Her breathing is heavy with adrenaline, blood roaring in her ears.
And then the sharp sounds of Cerydra’s heels clicking against the Titan’s armored body snap her back to her senses.
“Humanity has once again triumphed over the Titans! Together we bathe in the golden blood of victory over Strife, one Coreflame closer to Genesis!”
She can hear Cerydra’s rallying speech, and her body moves on its own, holding the head above the Imperator, the Empress, the Supreme Commander. She applies pressure to the head, sending a shower of golden blood over the Imperator.
And the Imperator did not flinch, tilting her head back as if the bloody shower only reinforced her power over Amphoreus itself. Then she faced the battered army once again, golden blood glittering as it rolled down her face.
”Glory to the Imperator! Glory to Prince Mydeimos!”
The people’s cheers filled her ears, cheers praising the Imperator and herself. Strife runs through her golden veins, revelling in the bloodshed and triumph.
Strife compels her to kneel before Law, Calamity shows its reverence to Fate. Perhaps the tales of Nikador fancying Talanton carried truth, maybe the will of her fallen Titan was now being carried on through her. She placed a kiss to the back of the Imperator’s hand, a kiss born of respect and deference. The shape of the queen feels like a heavy weight in her pocket, and she finds herself more than willing to be the Imperator’s chess piece.
Mydei knows by now that the Imperator hates such gestures, but perhaps she can see the genuinity behind the gesture, that it is not done to belittle her height or try to win favor, since the Imperator does not even flinch or pull away.
“Dux Leonum,” Mydei lifted her head as the Imperator spoke, looking up at her bloodied face and seeing how the light glittered and glinted off of her. No wonder Nikador had been so determined to win Talanton’s favor. “You will inherit the Coreflame of Strife and be my blade, and mine alone. Tonights feast shall be held in your honor, and your name will be known throughout Amphoreus by the time the sun rises.”
“Yes, Imperator,” Mydei murmured against her Imperator’s hand, being permitted to stay in that position of reverence for a moment longer, before the slight twitch of the Imperator’s finger signalled for her to rise. She stepped off the fading corpse first, holding her hand out to the Imperator, who accepted her assistance in descending from the body of the Titan.
Then Mydei watched Cerydra turn and reach into the weakened gaps between the armor, acting without hesitance and tearing out the glittering Coreflame, holding it up to show it to the army, as proof of their victory.
“To Dux Leonum!” She raised her voice, and the massies cried out,
“To Dux Leonum!”
She had to clean the blood off of Cerydra on the dromas ride home, silence settling in between them. It was a good opportunity to collect her thoughts, making sure to be gentle as she wiped away the golden blood.
She enjoyed kneeling even though it went against everything her people have always stood for, and she enjoyed the sight of blood cascading over the Imperator. She should be angered that she lost her home to this tyrant, that she was being used as nothing more than a tool.
But instead, she could only feel respect for the woman’s power.
And when they returned to Okhema, a feast was indeed held in Mydei’s honor. The army and common citizens reunited in the lower baths and sang the praises of the Imperator and the crown prince of Kremnos. Food and drink were grand, and the soldiers sharing each of their individual stories became a buzz of sound to her ears as she stood with Cerydra.
Part of her wanted to go down into the bath, to mingle with her people. But the Imperator had other plans.
“Come along, Dux Leonum. We have much to discuss,” Cerydra spoke with purpose, she always did, pointing her staff and leading her towards the upper level of baths.
“We do, don’t we,” Mydei muttered, she knows what Cerydra will demand of her next. To complete the trial of Strife, just as the holy maidens already had done for their Coreflame. And what after? How many Titans will she have to face?
The baths were empty, the goldweaver and holy maidens were below with the citizens. Honestly, that suits Mydei quite well, if she has to hear Aglaea complain about her lack of a shirt, she might show that seamstress just how barbaric she can be.
They stand between the baths, and Cerydra turns to face her, head held high. “I believe a reward is in order before your trial, Dux Leonum. Kneel.”
“Excuse me?” She knows the Imperator hates when people try to win her over by kneeling and acting like pathetic swine, so the order catches her off guard.
“You heard me. You were all too willing to do so over the body of Nikador, I could tell by your expression. So I shall forgive your transgression and allow you the opportunity to do so once again. So kneel, Mydeimos.”
Since Cerydra calls her by her title all the time, to an excessive degree in her eyes, being called by her name sends a shiver down her spine. She’s supposed to be a Kremnoan, her people do not kneel to anyone, not even their own king.
Yet… She kneels.
Perhaps the Imperator has done something to her mind, she knows she shouldn’t be so obedient, it goes against everything that she was taught. But something within her feels a sense of relief at being able to give the reins to someone else. There’s a thrill in the groveling, giving her pride up to the Imperator and allowing it to be toyed with however she saw fit.
“The crown prince of Kremnos kneeling like a dog is quite a sight,” Cerydra spoke down to her with mockery in her tone, “What would your people think if they saw you like this, on your knees before the one who tore them away from their home?”
“They would be…” Mydei’s breath came out louder than she had wanted it to. What was wrong with her?
“Disappointed,” Cerydra finished for her with a smirk, “But despite that, you enjoy it. Do you enjoy being nothing more than a weapon at my disposal? That your only purpose now is to stay by my side and give yourself up to my cause?”
Cerydra stepped and pressed her heel into Mydei’s thigh, reaching down and pulling Mydei’s head up to face her. The fire of her crown brazed brightly, challenging the Dawn Device itself.
And the display of power, it was something to be admired, and it made Mydei…
“Let me kiss you,” Mydei blurted without a second thought, but she did not dare waver once the words were out, even though she finds her own behavior somewhat embarrassing.
Cerydra looked blankly at her, blinking a few times. Seeing her so surprised after her little powertrip… It was certainly cute.
“You heard me,” Mydei pressed, staring straight at the Imperator’s eyes. Challenging her, almost.
“I… Well, I suppose you have earned quite a reward,” Cerydra scoffed, her cheeks growing pink despite her commanding exterior. She’s still human under the crown that she carries, and Mydei is the only one who gets to see that side of her.
And Mydei likes that. She likes that a lot. If she can fluster the woman behind the title of Imperator, then the power between them remains even, regardless of if she likes to kneel and do as she’s told.
So she quickly rises and hoists the Imperator up into her arms, pushing a kiss against her lips. She kisses like a Kremnoan, she doesn’t need faint dainty kisses that one can hardly feel, she wants Cerydra to feel her kiss for days at least. Besides, Cerydra isn’t some delicate maiden, and she’d likely find offense in Mydei purposefully being too gentle with her.
And the surprised sound that Cerydra makes is utterly irresistible, especially feeling her hands have to grab onto her for some stability. Her Imperator simply can’t be this cute, yet here she is, as adorable as she is awe-inspiring and powerful.
She refrains from pushing further, the baths aren’t exactly her idea of a private or romantic location. So she pulls away from the kiss, and the Imperator’s expression is priceless. She makes sure to save it to her memory, a sight for her and her alone.
“Dux Leonum.”
Mydei prepares for a scolding, even though it was definitely worth it to catch her off guard in such a way.
“...I had heard long ago of your campaign against the former king of Kremnos. So sit with me and regale me with the tales of your hardship, and only then I will forgive you for acting out of line.”
Mydei chuckles at her words. Cerydra is playing Imperator, of course she is, but by this point Mydei can easily tell that she’s not actually angry or offended about the situation. “My campaign? Well, I suppose I have to then, since I’d hate to be on your bad side, Cerydra,” she teased. There is no audience to play leader for, and even though part of her certainly wants to have her way with Cerydra here and now, she doesn’t want to let this opportunity to peer behind the Imperator’s mask go to waste.
She carries her to the bath and sets her down, sitting next to her on the seat. To her surprise, the Imperator puts her legs over Mydei’s lap. “Where do I begin…” Mydei slowly sat back, taking up as much room as she pleased and resting one arm over the back of the seating.
Perhaps she should start with how she was thrown into the sea, the beasts she had to fight… Or maybe she should start where her journey of vengeance actually began.
She idly rested a hand on Cerydra’s pale knee, rubbing at it with her thumb as she began to tell her story of vengeance. It isn’t an exciting tale, it’s one full of loss and hardship. She can feel Cerydra’s gaze on her, how the Imperator is actually listening to her words with a clear respect for her. She’s used to praise, but being thoroughly seen makes her feel flattered.
Once she finishes telling of her father’s death, she pauses. What more is to say, then? She knows Cerydra would be interested in the following politics, but there were no more events she thought were worth noting.
“And then?” Cerydra spoke, having ended up leaning against Mydei’s chest during her storytelling, indulging in the human pleasure of affection instead of keeping up walls much taller than herself.
“And then I met you, Imperator.”
That was the only thing worth noting. She leans in for a kiss, and the gesture is reciprocated in turn.
Mydei would like to bring her people back home to Castrum Kremnos someday. Her heart still aches for the home she fought so hard to return to, she knows her people will never fully adjust to Okhema no matter how many bloodstained battles they cheer for.
But her position as the Imperator’s “queen” piece is a suitable second home for her, until the day comes where they can cross the board together and reach Genesis.