MASTER CAELUM'S TOY

                    Lord Khyronis Pov

“Get those chains off him,” the first maid ordered firmly.

The two maids behind her immediately obeyed. 

They hurried forward, their hands quick and careful as they unlocked the iron cuffs binding my ankles. 

The cold bite of metal loosened at last, and when the chains clattered to the floor, I dragged my legs back toward myself, stretching them with slow satisfaction.

A breath escaped me, heavy and sharp. Finally, No longer tethered like some beaten dog, no longer bound like a criminal on display. 

My body was still caged in walls, but at least my limbs were mine again.

“Sir,” the first maid began, her voice polite though uncertain, “what’s your name?”

My head turned toward her, my gaze sharp enough to pierce stone. 

She dared ask me that? A mortal asking to know my name, the name that once shook worlds and silenced armies?

“You dare,” I said, my voice low and thunderous, “to ask the name of one who once ruled realms beyond your petty comprehension? I am Khyronis, Lord of Shadows That Bind. A god who walked among stars and now descends to tread upon your wretched soil. My name is not for the likes of you to utter casually, mortal. It is a whisper feared in the dark recesses where true power lingers.”

I spoke, expecting the weight of my words to crush them to their knees. 

I expected fear, trembling, perhaps even the desperate bowing of their heads. 

For any who knew that name, any who had heard it whispered, always bowed in terror, praying not to be sent to their graves.

But instead…

Laughter.

The two maids behind the first burst into giggles, their laughter sharp and mocking.

“Is he drunk?” one of them whispered to the other, barely containing her amusement. “I’ve never seen one of Master’s new toys act drunk this early in the morning.”

Toys?

My jaw tightened. My eyes narrowed as their words cut into me like poison.

“Master?” I echoed in my mind, rage twisting inside me. Do they mean that bastard… the one who dared to buy me? The one who chained me here like property?

My voice cracked through the air like a whip. “Who is this master of yours?”

For the first time, the maids hesitated. Their laughter dimmed, replaced with a flicker of unease. 

The first maid straightened her posture, her brows furrowed slightly as if offended by my ignorance.

“Master Caelum,” she said at last, her tone carrying both pride and warning. “Surely, you’ve heard of him. He is always the talk of the town, respected everywhere. You should be lucky he bought you.”

My lips curled into a sharp, humorless laugh.

“Lucky?” I spat, raising my chained ankles slightly, the broken shackles still clinking. 

“You call this luck? To be bound in chains, to be displayed like an object, to lie on this bed as if comfort could erase humiliation?”

Their faces hardened, but I didn’t stop. My voice rose, every word slicing through the air.

“Listen to me, pests. I cannot be bought. I will never be bought. You dare say I… a god, am lucky to be sold for two hundred million? That price cannot even scrape the edge of my worth. Not in this world. Not in any world.”

The walls seemed to vibrate with the force of my words, and I could see their mortal expressions flicker with something between fear and annoyance. But I didn’t care. 

They had crossed their line. And I would make sure they knew it.

The first maid let out a slow sigh, the kind a teacher might give a stubborn child. 

Her eyes flicked over me with practiced patience before she clasped her hands together and spoke, her tone firm and final.

“Fine. If you do not wish to share your name, so be it. But we must hurry. Master Caelum has ordered that you join him for breakfast.”

Her words were not a suggestion. They were an order dressed politely, and yet they grated against my pride like sand on stone.

“Breakfast?” I echoed, my voice dripping with scorn.

“Do you mortals believe I must sit at a table and break bread with your so-called master? Do you think I am some pet to be paraded beside him, like a trophy?”

The maid did not so much as flinch. She tilted her chin slightly, her composure unshaken.

With a flick of her fingers, she gestured to the two younger maids standing behind her.

“Then let us at least get you ready,” she said coolly. “You reek of sweat and dirt. Master Caelum will not have you at his table in this state.”

The two moved closer, their soft slippers whispering across the polished floor, reaching for me as though I were some helpless creature to be scrubbed and dressed.

My fury ignited at once. I stepped back sharply, my eyes flashing like steel in firelight.

“Do not touch me!” I thundered, my voice crashing against the walls.

“Remove your filthy hands from my body, or you will regret ever daring to lay a finger on me.”

For a heartbeat, the maids froze, startled by the weight of my voice. But then, as though they had expected this reaction all along, they exchanged knowing glances.

The second maid tilted her head, her expression sweet but her tone edged with quiet venom. 

“If you don’t allow it, Master Caelum will refuse to see you. He will send your food away. You will sit here, smelling of filth and hunger, until you learn obedience.”

The first added, almost mockingly, “And this… breakfast… may be the only food you receive today. You should think carefully before rejecting it.”

My jaw clenched hard enough that I could hear the grind of my own teeth. I wanted to laugh in their faces, to spit at their mortal threats, to tell them that gods had no need for bread or water.

But then…

Growl.

The sound tore through the silence, low and sharp, like an animal stirring in its cage. 

My stomach betrayed me. An ache twisted through my gut, hot and humiliating, a weakness I had not felt in centuries. Hunger. A mortal hunger, crawling across my body like shame.

The maids smirked at the sound, their eyes glinting with quiet triumph.

“There now,” one of them whispered, her voice soft as silk but cutting like glass. “Even gods need to eat.”

I glared at them, my silence burning hotter than any word. 

The truth was bitter, clawing at my pride like a knife. I could endure chains, cages, and humiliation. But hunger? Hunger was a battle even gods could not ignore forever.

Still, when they reached for me again, I recoiled, my voice a low growl.

“I will not allow you to wash me like an animal,” I hissed. “Do what you must, but keep your hands away from me.”

The first maid straightened at that, her patience beginning to fray. “Very well, sir,” she said tightly. 

“If you will not bathe, then you will face Master Caelum as you are… smelling of sweat, chained like a stray beast. Do not say you were not warned.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, but my pride held me still, even as my stomach twisted and my hunger whispered that I was already losing.

I glared at them, holding onto the silence until it nearly broke the air itself. And then, slowly, through gritted teeth, I spoke.

“Fine.”

The maids blinked, surprised that I had agreed so easily. But my eyes burned with fire as I raised a finger at them.