Sand and Fire

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and plots belong to Koroshi and wildcatv2. They cannot be used without express permission from the authors, nor can Sand and Fire be posted on any site without the express permission of the authors. Any similarities between real people and the characters in this piece of fiction are purely coincidental. The cultures in this story were inspired by many real life cultures. No offense is intended by the portrayal of any race.

Thanks to MiriuOniaya and Gnome for the reviews!


Inusuke woke the first morning of the tournaments, slightly more motivated to get out of bed than he had been the past few days; today was one day closer to when he would see Ookami compete. Even though he didn’t wake up on his own, the servant in charge of that task had little trouble dressing the fussy prince into his royal garbs. The young man did protest fixing his hair in the traditional top knot, but relented at the threat of his father settling the issue.

Once ready, the servant hurried him out to the main gate where his motor carriage was waiting, his parents nowhere in sight. Apparently, his father had become impatient waiting for his son and had left early for the arena. Inusuke sighed in relief. He’d have a carriage all to himself.

Or so he thought.

“It’s about time you got here,” a shrill voice pierced through the bubble of happiness he had developed throughout the morning. Fuck, he inwardly cringed, Hisamatsu. The prince turned towards the source and was faced with a very attractive young woman leaning out the window of the carriage. Her pale violet eyes glared at him. “Come on, Hideinosuke-kun! You’re going to make us miss the opening ceremony!”

Inusuke felt a muscle in his face twitch. He did not appreciate his father springing this little date on him. Given some warning, he would have been able to mentally prepare himself to spend the day with her. As it was, the prince would be lucky not to verbally lash out at her.

He resigned himself to a shitty day, climbing into the carriage. The plush interior had cushioned seats lining the front and rear of the cab and was roomy enough to comfortably fit six people. From the way Hisamatsu was hugging the side of the carriage, leaving quite a bit of extra space beside her, it was fairly obvious she expected him to sit next to her.

He sat in the spot diagonal from her, as far away as he could get.

She pouted at his choice in seating, settling for scooting to the spot directly opposite of him. “I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do,” she remarked, giving the young man a once over. “But you do look nice.” Inusuke did his best not to shiver as he felt her eyes crawl over his body.

The one-sided conversation was briefly halted when the motor carriage jerked forward, making its way to the arena. Inusuke turned his attention to the window, watching the scenery pass by.

The wonderful silence was broken when Hisamatsu delicately cleared her throat. The prince didn’t bother moving his head from where it rested in his palm, merely rotating his eyes to meet hers.

“Well?” she asked, expectantly. “How do I look?”

Inusuke’s first impulse was to say “good,” but that would just piss her off because he “didn’t even look” at her. So he took the time to allow his eyes to rove over her from head to toe and back up. Her kimono was a dark yellow, nearly orange in some places, and faded to a light green at the bottom. Dark violet butterflies fluttered up from the hem. Her shoulder length hair, alchemically dyed green to match the kimono, was held back by a thick band. Her face had only the barest hints of make-up, but that was because she didn’t need it.

“Beautiful as always.” Too bad I’m gay. He briefly wondered how she would react if he spoke that last thought aloud.

She beamed. “Even my hair? I was debating on what color to make it today.” She twirled several strands around her finger. “It was either green or purple.” As she spoke, the section of hair she held altered its color to the deep purple of her kimono. “What do you think?”

I don’t care. “Keep the green.” His voice remained flat as he did his best to placate her. He kept telling himself as long as she remained in a good mood, his day wouldn’t reach its full shitty potential.

She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “Normally you would have insulted me by now. So, what’s wrong, my dear husband?”

Inusuke’s head snapped around. “I am not your husband,” he corrected sharply. He took a deep calming breath. He’d get an earful from his father if they burned down the motor carriage thanks to one of their explosive fights.

Hisamatsu wasn’t at all alarmed at his outburst; she just smiled smugly. “You’re right - future husband.”

The blonde knew if he opened his mouth now, he would regret whatever would come out of it. No, that wouldn’t exactly be correct. He would regret what he said only when faced when the consequences.

That of course didn’t stop her from trying to provoke him. Currently, she was blatantly staring at him, stopping at key locations of his body, and giggling.

Inusuke couldn’t take it anymore. “What? What is it?”

“Oh, nothing.” Giggle. He absolutely hated that giggle. “I’m just admiring my prize.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her palms.

“Excuse me?!” He was no object to be won.

“It’s no secret every noble woman wants you as her husband, Hideinosuke-kun. You’re the most sought after bachelor in the kingdom. You have good looks, incredible alchemic talent - though not as good as mine, of course.”

“Your skill is nothing like mine!” Inusuke shot forward in his seat, pointing a finger at her face. He refused to put up with someone insulting his natural talent. It was well-known among the nobles that he was an alchemic power house. Was she trying to start a fight? Actually, considering she descended from a family that never married individuals not adept with fire, it shouldn’t be a surprise she was so confrontational. At the very least, she should show more respect to her prince. Currently, she had the nerve to smirk at him, arms crossed over her breasts.

The carriage jerked to a sudden stop, throwing Inusuke back against his seat and saving him from proving just how strong he was. He gave his head a small, quick shake, doing his best to clear his head. Not even giving Hisamatsu a second glance, he threw open the carriage door, startling the waiting footman. He agilely hopped out of the cab and began a brisk pace to the arena’s entrance restricted to the royal family and the highest of nobility. He vaguely heard his fiancée’s disgusted outburst, but he ignored it in favor of walking alone. Hisamatsu had other plans as she ran as quickly as her dignity would allow her to catch up with him. She huffed and linked their arms.

Rolling his eyes, Inusuke reluctantly permitted the contact. “I suppose this means you’re sitting in the box with me, too,” he grumbled.

“Quite right. Being your fiancée means I have all of the perks you do.” The prince glanced at her. She was facing straight ahead, but she was looking elsewhere, somewhere distant. He had seen that expression many times before on the features of those nobles recently granted more political power. He should have expected Hisamatsu to desire more than his body.

His resolve to leave Napaaj grew stronger; he refused to be stuck in a loveless marriage. The king expected his son to attend every day of the tourney, but on the fourth day, no fights were scheduled. It was a day for the Tournament Fair, where the commoners could buy exotic goods from all over Harte. The break also gave the arena workers a chance to clean up the field for the last three days of matches. That would be the perfect time to slip away to the Scarlette Heretic. Inusuke was confident Crei could sneak him out of the country.

The young man was brought out of his musings upon reaching his family’s private box. The box was situated on the middle tier of the circular arena facing the south. Predictably, it was the best spot in the facility. Though it was far above the arena floor, the box came equipped with magnification orbs should the occupants wish to view the activities in greater detail. The spheres of alchemic infused glass were twenty inches or so in diameter, constructed with half a dozen different view settings.

The box itself was rather simple in design compared to other facilities owned by the royal family. It housed eight plush chairs with plenty of room to spare. Two walls of stone separated it from the neighboring nobles’ boxes and the wall bordering the main hallway consisted of elaborate paper screens. The viewing window had an exclusive feature of becoming opaque for privacy at the will of the occupant while still allowing the imbedded orbs to display the events below. Paintings and other decorations were kept to a practical minimum. Similar, but less impressive boxes lined the rest of tier. All were protected from the elements, where the rest of the stadium’s attendees were exposed.

Inusuke slid the screen door aside, not bothering with announcing his presence or asking for permission to enter. His eyes immediately went to his seated father, currently engrossed with the opening ceremonies, and his mother sitting demurely to his right. The young man smirked; he could practically hear the huff he knew Hisamatsu wouldn’t dare release. She was likely quite miffed to have missed part of the ceremonies. He pulled his arm free of her and plopped down to the left of his father. Hisamatsu ignored his lack of manners, seating herself very lady-like in the seat next to him.

Brief pleasantries were exchanged before all turned their attention to the opening ceremonies which were, in Inusuke’s opinion, quite boring and unnecessary. People attended the tournament to watch the fights, not skinny little dancers prance around the arena floor. The brightly colored costumes were also a bit painful on his eyes. Thankfully, they were only out there for thirty minutes or so before the contestants for the day made a lap around the interior of the arena to deafening cheers.

Depending on who you were, you either loved the first day, or dreaded it. It was this day the magician class competed, consisting of battlemages, sages, wizards, and sorcerers. People from all over the world came to see the live alchemy being used. The vivid colors and designs resulting from the sanctioned battles were truly a sight to behold.

The guards and arena workers, however, knew the trouble this class brought and labored feverishly to contain the unpredictable magic that was a frequent occurrence in every fight. No matter how many precautions the staff took, there were always casualties among the observers thanks to the love these magicians had for experimental - and explosive - techniques.

The battlemages were up first for two reasons. One, the containment sphere in place to protect the viewers was always brand new at the start of the tournament, and therefore quite resilient; two, because they were the most reckless class and required the added benefits of a new containment shield. Through the course of their fights, the sphere gradually deteriorated. When the last match between the mages occurred around midday, they took great delight in going all out and more or less annihilating the shield, thus forcing an intermission to replace it.

The wizards, only slightly less destructive, but more in control, were next. Because most of them were in the teaching profession, they were very calculating in their attacks; but even educators were not exempt from making errors. Their favored attacks of concentrated alchemic blasts had a tendency to blow holes in the protective sphere when they missed their intended target.

The wizards finished and the first pair of sage contestants entered the arena. Inusuke stifled a yawn. He had always found the first day to be rather boring. He had grown up using alchemy; no attacks the magic class performed had ever surprised or interested him. He could easily defeat any of them. It was just too bad royalty were forbidden to participate for fear of irreversible harm to them.

The prince fiddled with the controls on the view screen. He focused on one of the new contestants in amusement. The sage couldn’t be much over five feet, probably the shortest man yet to participate. He was covered in voluminous robes in subdued colors, making him appear two to three times as wide as he should be, if his tiny head was any indication. Small black glasses resting halfway down the bridge of his nose drew attention to his almond-shaped eyes. From the small stature and dark hair and eyes, he had to be from Hinac, a neighboring country. He also had an angry scowl pasted on his face as if there was some permanent thing in his life continually pissing him off.

The short sage made his way to the center of the arena floor with arms crossed, and proceeded to stare down his much larger opponent. Or should that be “stare up”? Inusuke looked more closely at the small man; something about him was bothering the prince. Then he realized the lack of a staff sages were known for. He was the only contestant of the day to walk out without some sort of weapon.

When the starting shot rang through the air, the other sage was already well into his first incantation, alchemy flowing brilliantly around him and his tall staff. In just a few seconds, the spell was complete and sent flying at the smaller man. The attack hit its mark, kicking up a large cloud of dirt and completely enveloping him.

A few moments later, after the dust had settled, the little angry sage was still standing, a protective sphere swirling around him. He allowed it to melt away. Thanks to the magnification orb, Inusuke could see his lips moving, mumbling something to his opponent, probably an insult considering the outraged reaction it caused from the other man.

The opponent waved his staff high above him in the start of another incantation, but this time he was unable to finish. With a mere flick of the small sage’s wrist, the man’s spell was canceled and he was blown completely off his feet and into the crowd.

A grin replaced the scowl and the angry little sage then walked confidently off the stage, leaving the crowd in awe. Even Inusuke found himself impressed at the competitor’s performance. He looked over to the roster of fighters his father held.

“The Great Sage Weizhe, huh?” Inusuke muttered. “That’s certainly a pretentious title to give yourself.”

“Well, he was rather impressive,” Hisamatsu chimed in. Inusuke just rolled his eyes and slouched back into his seat. He just wanted this day to end.

After the final fight of the day, Hisamatsu met up with her family and left with them, much to Inusuke’s relief. The young prince rode the motor carriage with his own parents back to the palace. The drive was unexpectedly comfortable thanks to his mother keeping the peace in her own unique way. Once back, he begged off a late dinner, preferring to take advantage of the cool evening and walk around the palace grounds.

Upon reaching the exit to his father’s gardens, he heard two very familiar bickering voices.

“Aw, man, that was so sweet!”

“I know, I know!”

The prince was feeling a bit social at this point, so he headed in their direction. He could see them prowling around in casual wear just outside the garden’s gate, apparently not on duty tonight. That was obviously for the best as they were once again off in their own little world, discussing the tournament.

“And that red mage!”

“She totally owned the geomancer.”

“Yeah, blew him completely off the stage-”

“-with his own magic, no less.”

“Dude, I know.”

Inusuke continued on his course to the two idiots, reaching up and shaking his hair out of the annoying top knot as he walked. With blonde strands obscuring his vision, he didn’t see that the guards were too involved in their discussion to notice someone in their path. Thus, three asses landed on the manicured lawn.

“Woah, hey!”

“You okay, pal?”

Inusuke remained sprawled on his rear, hair askew. He should have known better than to trust the observation skills of these two. He opened his mouth to let out a tirade, but was interrupted when two pairs of hands easily lifted him up and placed him back on his feet. He tossed his head to get the hair out of his face, delighting in the looks of abject horror when they finally realized just whom it was they ran into.

“Prince Hideinosuke-sama!” they said together, bowing so quickly they smacked their heads together.

The blonde winced at the quite audible crack, deciding to spare them the instinctual reprimand on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe I should be asking if you two are alright.”

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah, please don’t concern yourself with us, Your Highness.”

Both were refusing to meet his eyes. He sighed. “Look, I’m not my old man. Forget about it, okay?” As annoying as they were, they were also mildly amusing. It’d be nice to have guys close to his own age to talk to that weren’t pompous assholes for once. He grinned at their shocked expressions. “So, what did you guys think of today’s fights?” Their faces lit up like the sun.

“Oh man!”

“It was sooo sweet!!”

“That one red mage was hot.”

“I really thought she was going to win.”

“She trumped that wizard.”

“But that sage-”

“Man, he was short.”

“Dude, what’s wrong with being short?”

Inusuke realized too late that bothering these two might not have been the best idea for his sanity.

“Huh? Nothing, why?”

“You pointed out he was short.”

“Well, he was.”

“Yeah, true.”

The prince couldn’t even remember their names. Mitsu and Mutsu?

“But he did win.”

“Barely, though.”

Barely? Were they thinking of the same midget sage?

Their heads swiveled to Inusuke, startling him. “What did you think of the tourney, Your Highness?” It was bad enough finishing each other’s sentences, but speaking entire phrases in unison was damn creepy.

“It was alright, I guess. I was actually looking forward to watching the warriors. Do either of you know what time they’ll be competing tomorrow?”

“The warriors, huh?”

“They’re in the tank class, right, Futatsu?”

“Yeah, but they could be swordsmen.”

“Huh? Wait. Don’t swordsmen guard though?”

“Well, they half-guard.”

“Warriors don’t guard.”

Son of a bitch. Just give me a time, Inusuke thought, exasperated.

“Yeah, they do, Hitotsu.”

“They do?”

“Yeah, with their swords.”

“I don’t think that counts.”

“So, they’re tanks then.”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“So that means they compete last tomorrow.”

“Think so.”

The two of them nodded at their long in coming conclusion. The prince sighed. Last, always last.

“Prince Hideinosuke?”

“Is that all you wanted to know?”

“Yes!” He responded a bit too quickly. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m good.” He could find any answers faster on his own. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you guys around.” Inusuke took off in the direction of his rooms, throwing a wave over his shoulder to the two guards.

Several hours later, Inusuke found himself lying awake in bed, unable to settle his mind for sleep. The simple fact that he’d had to wait an extra day to see Ookami fight was driving him up a wall. He badly wanted to watch Ookami in action when his own life wasn’t in mortal danger. He hadn’t even seen Ookami since Crei’s cycle was returned. He had been only marginally successful in pushing the handsome man out of his thoughts, but now, in the privacy of his dark room, that was all he could think about.

Inusuke barely registered his hand making its way down his abdomen.

He remembered the dark, shaggy hair that begged to have his slender fingers run through it; the eyes matching the color of an approaching storm; a deep voice, that while rarely heard, managed to reverberate throughout his entire being from the smallest of sounds.

The hand crept beneath the waistband of his sleep pants.

He could still feel the warmth of the back he spent hours leaning against on the cycle and the strength of the long arm that wrapped around him in his defense, an arm that was corded with muscle and could swing a sword in the blink of an eye.

His hand was slowly stroking his burgeoning erection to full hardness.

The young man imagined the large hand that so easily dissipated his alchemy moving up his arm, around his shoulder, to gently massage the nape of his neck. The calluses built up from years of hard work and training rubbed enticingly against the sensitive skin.

The hand was moving in earnest now, thumb sliding over the slit and smearing the precum for lubrication.

Inusuke envisioned startlingly soft lips kiss his collar bone and make a slow descent down his pale chest. The mouth moved to a nipple and bit gently.

His unoccupied hand followed the path of the ghost mouth and pinched a hardened nub.

The lips continued down to the flat plane of his stomach. They traced the path of light blonde hair to the final prize.

The prince maintained the steady stroking of his manhood and allowed himself a low groan.

Fantasy Ookami looked up at him through dark bangs and lowered his mouth over the young man’s erection, swallowing it entirely.

Inusuke’s back arched off the bed as he climaxed with a silent shout, his seed coating his fingers.

He slowly came down from the high and wiped his fingers on his pants with a disgusted look. The soiled bottoms were removed and tossed to a corner of his room. He pulled up the covers that had somehow gotten kicked to the end of the bed and finally fell into a restless sleep.