#the sixth commandment

                                THE SIXTH COMMANDMENT

"No physical liberty is to be taken with the Master, the Master's Paramour,  Spouse,  Offspring, or the Blood-Bound Sayaad without the Master's express permission." 

*The children shouldn't be here.*

*I'll remove them, but please... don't let Doyle come to harm. He is Met's Soul.* Kneeling down the two young ones were near tears, as she scooped them up, "Shh, it's okay..." Annest glances to her Father before she and the Twins are swallowed up into the Shadows, their faces buried in her shoulders.

Sighing softly, Teren gestures somatically for the doors and windows to be locked and the room silenced for those beyond it. That, my little Darlings, is the problem. Massaging his face, Teren takes a moment to gather his own thoughts on the situation before interceding between Ync and his Son. Gently resting his hand on the Alpha's shoulder, he whispers. "Release him. Please."

Glassy-eyed with unshed tears, D'ashu crawls forward toward her Husband, her head angled to see how badly her Son has suffered thus far; only to hear her Mate's voice powerful and angry in her mind.

*Stay theh. If you soften his punishment, I will extend it.*

Stifling a sob with her hand, D'ashu nods, pressing her face into the carpeted floor, as low and prostrate as she knew to be. *Please, no. Do harm no. I love. Is my heart. Please, no.*

The Incubus Father turns a dark look to his wife, gesturing for silence before assuming an obeisant position beside their Master, relinquishing his hold on Doyle’s thorat as his son squirms beneath his grip. *Don't you daeh move frh'om ouh Masteh.*

With his mouth dry, and unable to stop his body from trembling in genuine fear, the younger Incubus complies, sprawling onto his stomach with his head in the carpet, not unlike the position of submission assumed by his Mother; though he hadn't seen her.

"How long were you in the past?" Teren asks softly, his fingertips tenderly combing through the younger man's hair; not unlike the motion he might use with one of his Lovers.

"Uhm... A-a y-y-year, Master. Almost a year and a--a half." Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me... Doyle's litany has the curious effect of obscuring the other thoughts in his mind as he continues attempting to process just how furious his Father is.

"Ah." Teren replies in a softer, more seductive tone. "So, you're a man, now, hmm?"

Closing his eyes, Doyle weighs little, responding more on instinct. "I...I think so."

Nodding to himself, the nobleman asks tenderly strokes Doyle’s cheek with his knuckle. "Did you seduce my son, Doyle?"

It was such a direct question; and if he were honest with himself, the sound of his Master's voice was warm velvet over his very soul; coaxing him to an honesty he knew he shouldn't speak. "I...seduced... M-M-Malura.....and....and w-we--" what little common sense he possessed stopped him from speaking, though the images of him intimate with the half-Elven Chronomancer while Methuselah looked on - gratifying himself - was on repeat in his mind for several seconds. "W-we didn't.... we didn't have...sex. We didn't have sex with Him." Technically, the words were a lie. They hadn’t had penetration sex with his Master’s Son.

A faint smile flits briefly along Teren's mouth, his sapphire eyes duller in the moment as his baritone hardens. "You fucked my Student, in front of my Son." He reiterates what he's taken from Doyle's words, eliciting a hesitant gulp from the much younger man as he gestures for Ync to remove Doyle's shirt. "You haven't answered my question, however..."

The feel of his Father's hands roughly tuggling and tearing through his shirt and coat, pulling them from his arms is nothing compared to the next step in the inquisition as Ync lays a negation bracer along his left wrist, cutting him off from the capacity to use his Light whatsoever. Deep, rushed breaths erupt from his lungs. Get it together. Get it together. This is a Trial. That's all it is. It's a Trial, like the Traveler-- The thought is interrupted by the abrupt tug of his Father's hand, pulling his arms too high and back for even a hint of mercy to be implied; the other Incubus's knee set hard along his spine. "Ah, Father!"

Behind him, he hear's his Mother's first stifled sob, and closes his eyes, gritting his teeth against the pain, if only for her sake.

Again, Teren's gentle touch contrasts with Ync's as he tilts Doyle's chin up, lowering his gaze to meet the young Incubus's eyes. "Did you. Seduce. My Son?"

Doyle's eyes are defiant when they finally meet his Master's incisive gaze. "I didn't have to!"

Releasing his hold on the younger man, Teren looks at Ync. "What would you suggest is a suitable punishment for the first among our Family to break the Sixth Commandment? It seems, the damage is already done. I cannot accept nothing, though D'ashu, my Son and likely Annest would wish otherwise. The purpose of the Commandments is to protect my family from the instincts of your kind. An example must be made."

"I didn't hurt him! I'd never hurt him!" Doyle replies, finally digging deep and electing to go all in on the offense he's committed. "Master--"

Before another word can leave his lips, Ync cracks his knuckles hard enough across Doyle's jaw to dislocate it. "Not anotheh fuckine' wohd." he mururs in a hushed, malicious tone.

The excruciating pain that lights up the younger Incubus's mind with fire and agony has the desired effect of shutting him up; though the sound of his Mother sobbing exacerbates his suffering a hundred fold.

Teren's head snaps back toward Ync, he pulls at his Senschal's jaw, urging him to his feet, and kissing him tenderly. "Take him Home. D'ashu, also. I'll bind him there. Methuselah is barred from the Sacred Heart. In time, - a year? A year and a half, was it? - That should be long enough for at least one of them to forget to forget the other."

Ync yields to the kiss, knowing it's meant to reassure him, but it fails. The terror in the Elder Sayaad at what more may be demanded as recompense by his Son holding him with baited breath until the Priest has finished speaking.  "Yes, Masteh." He whispers softly, bowing his head. When Teren captures his lips a second time, the kiss even more tender than the last.

"This is not Ubuthrezim, my Friend. I will not take his Soul. Nor will I see him tortured or have him taken from you. Peace. Return home. Leave Evie here with Dun'yazad until I'm able to determine a more suitable arrangement for our conjoined family."

The thought of leaving Evie behind is painful; but losing Doyle to the well-earned wrath of the Master he'd come to know and Love was unbearable. Ync returns the kiss, pouring out his gratitude into the Priest's mouth before bowing his forehead to Teren's. "Thank you, Masteh, foh spahine him."

"Could I take from you your Son? No. Never. Go." The nobleman replies, moving toward the exit. "Leave the Bracer in place. Bind his mind. I don't want his thoughts to reach beyond what is common for most Sayaad. If my son were to trespass into the Sacred Heart to retrieve Doyle, it would be disasterous for everyone."

"Yes, Masteh." Ync replies, bowing his head low and pulling Doyle to his feet. "Make a pohtal, D'ash. We'eh leavine."

Scrambling to her knees, D'ashu conjures the portal as instructed, looking pleadingly between her Husband and her Master; afraid to utter a word and see her Son punished futher. The very moment Ync and Doyle have passed through, she shuts the portal of Light, crawling over to her Master and tugging at his pants as she buries her face along Teren's bare feet. "Please, Master. No hurt. Boy not bad. Is good boy. No hurt."

Kneeling to one knee, Teren pulls D'ashu into his arms, as best he can in her native state. "Shhh. Shhh." he whispers softly, pressing his lips to hers. *Peace, my Darling. He is spared. I will do only that which is needed to defend my family. No more. I swear it.*

Pouring her entire heart and body into the responsive kiss she offers, it's difficult for a moment for Teren to remember that he did, in fact, help raise her. The moment the thought hits, however, he withdraws. "No. No, I cannot. Not you." Sobbing quietly, D'ashu crawls into the Priest's lap, shifting into her much smaller form to savor the succor of his arms and lap as she did in her earlier years. "Is mine. No take?" she pleads softly.

Kissing her forehead as he rocks her in his arms, Teren nods. "I know. He is your Son. As much as Methuselah is mine. I have had a hand in Doyle's raising. I have no desire to see him suffer. Not at my hands, not at anyone else's."

Clinging to her Master, D'ashu nods emphatically, showering the nobleman with kisses and hugs; not terribly different than she had when she was a little girl; eliciting a soft laugh from him as he slips her free from his lap.

"Go. Go home, before Ync's fears for Doyle's future urge him to do more harm."

The thought - the prescience it may hold - all but launches D'ashu from his arms as she conjures a portal of Light and races through it to her family on the other side.

Sighing to himself, Teren massages his eyes, looking about the room in silent recalcitrance. 

Once more... once more, my obligations have driven you far from me, my Son. Dropping the wards around the now empty room, Teren moves toward the door; not entirely certain where he will go.

"Because I do not think it is possible for me to be loved. That way. It's just not possible."

The Sixth Commandment, 2023.

To anyone else like me who was blown away by The Sixth Commandment, I highly recommend the second episode of Rev. that features charismatic preacher 'Darren'. He's the comedy version of Ben Field.

I'm so glad that these two portrayals of virtue-signalling psychopaths exist because they are the closest thing I've ever seen on film or TV to the person who targeted me in my twenties. One day I'll magically become a great writer and then he'll be sorry.