Power was everything; that was something Deijin had learned very early on while living within his tribe. 

His people, a group of bipedal jackals who had long since conquered the sand dunes of the east, prized power above intelligence, kindness, mercy, and even family. Power was what allowed the men of his species to conquer the giant red scorpions that hunted the vast lands that his king hailed from. Power was what brought order to the people after they had managed to carve out foundations from the black stones which lay deep within the earth. Power was what created peace amongst the various other tribes which existed beyond the kingdom for which his people held rulership over for several hundred years. Power crushed the enemies that sought to take the glittering wealth hidden beneath the heart of their land. Power gave prestige to those who survived the countless bloody wars which had been fought between his people. Power saw fit to cull the weak from society so that the jackals could persevere through the harsh times when the great river did not overflow. 

Power was what made the decisions of his king to send him to the strange lands filled with verdant lands and pathetic men right.

The only aspect of the lives of his people that stood higher than this was hierarchy, but that had long since been carved into the very bones of their culture by those with power. Order was fought tooth and nail for amongst those who ruled over the people of the dunes, as could be seen by how strong the leaders were who sat upon the shimmering gold throne of the high palace. Physical might was what children were made to idealize, as any leader could be challenged at any time, thus elevating anyone into a position of prestige at any moment. 

There was no place for weakness amongst those who sought to govern the wellbeing of others, a truth that all who lived within the dunes lived by. 

This is what had been the founding thought behind Deijin’s acclimation of strength growing up. The little black jackal had been cast away by those who had given birth to him for some reason, as his first memory was that of wandering around alone rooting through refuse and waste of the kingdom in order to try and find sustenance for him. He was taken in by one of the guards of the largest city within the sandland kingdom after he had attacked them during a fit of hunger induced confusion. From then on his life had been filled with rigorous training in order to become strong enough to be accepted into the ranks of the royal guards. 

Days and nights of being physically punished by those who saw potential in him became his life, along with the understanding of how to use a plethora of weapons in order to defend himself. The knowledge of his people’s language was ingrained into his head after he was tossed into a room filled with slaves whose duty it was to teach the next generation the tongue of their people. It was during these times that Deijin saw exactly what it meant to have power, as he was made a man by several of his fellow would-be soldiers upon having a terrified slave brought into his room. The feeling of mounting the other, of the weaker male’s pleas and screams while his brothers-in-arms cheered him on was a sweet one for Deijin. The sight of his seed leaking from the abused tailhole of the quivering creature was a sight that stuck within the black jackal’s mind to this very day, as it was proof of both his virility and his power over those who were helpless to stand before him. 

Years passed by in the blink of the eye as Deijin grew both his physical abilities and his rank amongst those who served the jackal kingdom. That he had toppled several of those who he had trained with meant nothing to Deijin, as all knew that the fate of those who stood within the kingdom’s army was to be either raised up or cast down after competing against others of their rank. Of course, this was when Deijin had learned how to relish in his victory, as some of those same trainees would soon find themselves being used for the pleasure and satisfaction of the most high ranking soldiers. There were no hard feelings for this act, as there was nothing that those who were used could do about failing the show of power which was demanded of those within the kingdom’s army. All there was at the end was acceptance by those who had to simply lay back and submit themselves to their betters. 

Deijin could admit that he enjoyed seeing the humbled faces of those other males beneath him, as it confirmed how truly strong he was amongst the lot of them. To say that such feelings were like a drug would not be wrong, there was something very pleasant about dominating another male that words just could not describe. However, Deijin never found himself relishing in these feelings for very long, as once he was fully initiated into the knighthood of his kingdom he was shown the pleasure of the female form. Knights in training were not to touch a woman, as it was thought that such a practice would distract them from their duties - it also didn’t help that females were quite scarce within their kingdom, and so breeding between a man and woman were orchestrated by those who sought the continuation and growth of their species. Deijin had no care for such a thing, he simply relished in the joy that was found by dipping himself deep within the folds of a nubile female to concern himself with being saddled with just one consort.

The intoxicating sensation of burying his manhood inside of a writhing feminine body clouded Deijin’s mind to the point where he would sometimes have to be pulled back in order to keep from possibly breaking the figure beneath him. He learned very quickly how to control himself after the rough hands of some of the higher ranking members reminded him of his place within the knighthood, much to his displeasure. To add insult to injury, he was often forced to use several slaves to slake the ever present lust within his loins, as there was still an ever present drought of females within their kingdom, despite the centuries of selective breeding which had been implemented by those beyond his station. This was fine enough for Deijin when he was hard up, but because he had no respect for those males who held no rank within their kingdom he often transformed the passion running within his veins into violent energy that often left those beneath him sobbing in pain and fear.

Because this wasn't frowned upon he never saw issue with what happened to those slaves he used, though because he was only satisfied on a physical level Deijin often found himself leaving the slave halls for the training grounds in order to calm the dissatisfaction which burned within his mind. 

Whether it was during the wee hours of the night, or during the times when he was given leave to do as he desired, Deijin would find himself either jogging for miles at a time, or swinging his favored sword against invisible enemies which lived within his mind after planting his seed deep within the backsides of those servile slaves who lived within the often silent halls of the palace.

Ironically enough, it was thanks to this nighttime behavior of his that the black jackal was able to slay a platoon of soldiers who had thought to strike the slumbering capitol during the depths of a moonless night. Blood and fury raged through Deijin as he single handedly slaughtered scores of enemies within his path; even to this day he could still remember carving through leather armor and flesh as though it were leaves in the wind as he brandished his favorite sword at the lot of them. Once the last enemy, the reptilian leader of the warriors in question, was defeated Deijin removed the other’s head from his shoulders and then presented it to the then king after returning him. His reward for performing such a feat was the highest honor that could be bestowed upon someone such as himself, and that was to feel the kiss of glory brought about from the silent deities that watched over his people.

It was nearly impossible to describe in words what it was like to suddenly feel his body and soul filled with the power of the gods; the physical touch was easy enough to contend with, as Deijin’s onyx fur was painted with metallic gold paint which would sear deep into his skin, forever tainting him with the marks of those who were the chosen of their deities. However, what came next was...weird, to say the least. After being bathed in ceremonial oils that stank of lavender and myrrh he was then taken deep into one of the chambers within the underbelly of the city and then made to kneel before a massive statue that took on the shape of one of the knights within the kingdom. Nothing happened as the clerics prayed over and around Deijin, but just as soon as they left him be, sealing the stone doors of the chamber shut behind them, the statue came alive and reached out for the prone jackal.

Deijin did not feel fear. He was beyond it by that point in his life, and yet his heart did speed up in a rather inappropriate manner when he was grabbed within an unrelenting stone grip and then shown his place before the statue. That was the first time Deijin had ever been penetrated by another, his lower body being opened by the unseed phallus which came awake beneath the marble loincloth the statue wore was not something that jackal warrior ever wanted to experience again, nor the sensation of having his mouth taken and then spread open by a thick tongue that dug deep within his maw. Deijin tried to fight against what was happening with futile kicks and swipes of his claws, but it was useless, as the deity who had been given a life through the stones plundered his inner sanctum over and over again with careless ease. It was during that time that Deijin spilled his first and last tear out from the corners of his eyes, as when the living statue hilted up inside of him, expanding his belly to almost comical proportions, before filling him with its essence, that a sense of utter helplessness washed over his soul.

Sickness quickly filled Deijin at that point. 

The knowledge that another male, even one that was a spirit given form, had spilled itself inside of him made rage grow within the black and gold jackal’s heart. And yet because he had been silenced by the tongue that was still trapped within his mouth he could not voice his anger, nor his confusion when cold fangs of power coursed through his body. To describe the moment in full, it felt as though ice water was being pumped within his veins; Deijin found himself becoming washed in a strange sensation, so much so that he could still recall his fingers and toes clenching and his heart restlessly beat beneath the cage of his ribs as he swallowed up by the insemination of power being bestowed upon him. Glaring into the face of the stone figure holding onto him, Deijin tried to demand answers with his glittering black eyes, yet the nameless deity gave him no answer. Instead it continued to release itself into him for what seemed like hours on end as the marble hard orbs in between its legs pulsed and twitched and jumped in time with every beat of the black jackal's heart. Had Deijin been able to look himself over during that time he would have noticed that the golden marks which had been painted into his fur were glowing ever so slightly, the same with the dark orbs within the sockets of his eyes. 

Darkness reached out for Deijin before long and soon the black jackal had found his mind dragged down into the depths of nothingness. Faint whispers could be heard within the open plains of his subconscious but in trying to reach out for them Deijin realized that there was nothing to hold onto. And so the dune warrior floated within a vast sea of emptiness for what seemed like an eternity before he found a small spot of light shimmering up above him. Animal instinct made him reach out for the faint glitter of luminescence. Deijin came away with a gasp on top of one of the medical beds within the hall where the injured soldiers were shamefully made to rest. 

Barking out a command for someone to come to him found a young slave cautiously scuttling up towards him. When he demanded answers from the other Deijin was told that he had been blessed by their deities and was now being hailed as a hero amongst all of their people. The knowledge of his new status brought a smirk to the black and gold jackal’s lips, and yet the memory of what had happened forced out a deep growl from Deijin’s lips. The slave, who was completely ignorant of the turmoil within the knight's head, was shown the new power that had been gifted to the black and gold jackal after he was pulled down onto the cot that the dune warrior had been resting on and then bred like the submissive that he was. Deijin spilled all of his fury and bewilderment over what had happened to him into the upturned butt of the moaning male beneath him, so much so that when other slaves came in to see what the noise was all about they too found themselves being treated to Deijin’s rough affections. The entire day following his awakening was a blur of lust, sweat, cries of abandonment, and stained tailholes as the black and gold jackal used those around him for his pleasure.

After that Deijin was made to stand in front of the king and swear his loyalties to the kingdom, to which he did without issue. Those of the nobility cheered for their new hero upon hearing him repeat the words of fealty for which call warriors were commanded to hold as virtues. Deijin’s pride swelled to almost impossible heights in the days to come as almost every imaginable gift was thrown his way. Whether it be promises to marry the most beautiful woman within the kingdom, or being fitted with whatever types of armor/clothing he desired, to even being offered the throne itself by the king should he defeat the other in combat, nothing was outside of Deijin’s reach right then. 

So why did it all seem to mean so little to him?

The weeks that came to pass found Deijin becoming both bored and restless as he completed his duty for the kingdom by scouting its borders, training its soldiers, and defending the people from the few armies that thought to march upon them. Nothing had changed with what it was that he was expected to do, despite being given more subordinates to micromanage, however, Deijin felt no passion for what he was doing. Something was missing, of that he was sure of, and yet he couldn’t put a name to what it was that he seemed to be unable to grasp. Some of the elder knights thought that perhaps he longed for a wife to fill with pups, but that didn’t seem right, as there was no end of pleasurable female company to bed when the urge rose within his low hanging balls. Trying to find the answer with the scribes of the kingdom proved useless, as the records of those who had been kissed by their deities were very sparse, if only because these individuals kept mostly to themselves, though Deijin was told that his feelings were natural and would settle with time. 

They didn’t.

Almost three years later and Deijin found himself no better than he had been beforehand. In truth, he seemed to be much worse off, as his attitude towards others around him had changed in a way that none could say that they were happy about. Anger was not an emotion that filled the black and gold jackal’s heart very often, but now when it did the result of his fury could be called nothing less than explosive. The knights who fought with him had seen this first hand when a stray crossbow had lobbed itself into the head of a fellow knight who had been guarding Deijin’s back. The sight of the other going down in a spray of blood and gore had triggered something ferocious inside of the black and gold jackal and its escape from the dune warrior’s control had been both spectacular and horrifying to witness by all those on the battlefield. Deijin ripped through the remaining enemies like a beast gone mad with bloodlust; his body moved like that of a shadow as he swept across the sun scorched sands as his longsword sang like a maiden crying out for vengeance as he sliced the massive silver blade through platemail wearing troops with almost casual ease. 

Deijin would never be able to tell what exactly he had been thinking about as he witnessed his opponents fall before him, the only thing that the black and gold jackal could recall for sure was that he had never had so much fun in his entire life after slaying the last man and then raising his head up to howl victory to the setting sun which stood behind him. The fact that his left eye had been lost in the conflict meant little to him, as he was a warrior, and thus such losses were seen as acceptable in order to secure the safety of those who relied upon the power within his chest.

After that Deijin seemed to become a person that was no longer spoken about in tones of respect, but instead one of fear and concern. It didn’t help matters at all that he seemed to smile more and more as the days went by with a crooked smirk that could chill the bones of the most war hardened soldiers. His eyes, once black but having long since been stained gold by the power of his people’s deity, now shimmered with an eerie, almost evil light whenever he looked at someone. A foolish soldier had once jokingly told Deijin that it looked as though he were peering within the soul of those around him. The irony of this statement was a truth that made Deijin cackle out loud, as he often felt that he could see inside of someone else. 

The fears, the frustrations, the anxiety of the people around him, they were all put on display for the black and gold jackal as he walked about the streets of the capitol. Women would often admit to him that his presence made their men shudder whenever he passed their way, and yet this only served to excite Deijin instead of causing him to pause in consideration. This was what it felt like to have real power he had thought after hearing such words for the first time, however Deijin wasn’t satisfied with this. He wanted more. He wanted those around him to shudder in his presence. To see him as the warrior that he was. 

He eventually made this happen when, after being sent by his king to enlist within a Royal Guard Defence Force created by the new monarch calling himself the Emperor of the Golden City. Deijin had never cared much about politics, and so he didn’t understand why his king tolerated such nonsense, however, being within this new group gave him the chance to relish in both dominating and humiliating the various weaker males that he was forced to work with. Defeating and then forcing a certain loudmouthed wolf who thought himself to actually have power was a delightful memory for Deijin, as he recalled the joy which filled his heart as he both defeated the other in combat and then forced him to beg for mercy while ruining his tailhole for all those who would come later to use him. The fact that those who had been loyal to the other had quickly turned from their companion in order to not incur the black and gold jackal's sexual fury was a simple cherry on top of the cake as it were. 

Not that Deijin cared about them or the rage and fury for which the wolf often cast his way when he thought the jackal wasn't paying attention to him; a simply over-the-shoulder glare quickly reminded the defeated lupine of his place.

The little squirrel that joined the company much later was also quite amusing to toy with, especially since the other was so laughably weak that Deijin swore that he could kill the other simply by sneezing on him. Making the weaker male moan and cry out in pain filled pleasure became something of a hobby for the black and gold jackal whenever he wasn't busy training those around him for the battles to come, as the was something truly delicious about using the other and then tossing him aside only to repeat abusing him again and again before doing the same. 

Using the other men within the defence force gave him similar and yet not quite the same amount of pleasure, though it did remind them of their place beneath them. There were very few who Deijin didn't make into tools for his amusement, one male in particular was a bespectacled fox who would always bow low and humbly before him whenever Deijin thought to try and challenge the other, as if he knew that this was how to avoid a physical altercation with the dune warrior. That it never failed to work annoyed Deijin to no end, however the black and gold jackal would always take his frustrations out one another male within the group. Whether it was trouncing them in a sparring match, or covering their bodies with his potent sweat and the white nectar from his loins, Deijin saw the whole company as nothing more than toys that he could use and then toss away for use later on. 

Many tried to challenge him both for what he continuously did to them and his being automatically given the position at the head of the defence force because of his status as a hero amongst his people, but they were all unable to defeat him, even when he fought without his favored sword. The delicious sight of them gasping and groaning in defeat as he stood over them was a treat that Deijin never got tired of, and yet the best thing of all didn’t come from this simple humiliation, nor using their bodies afterwards to slake his ever present lust. No. What was all the better for the dune warrior was going out of his way to find women that they would often bed and then mount them while forcing the females to tell him who was the better lover. 

The wailing cries of passion soaked deep within Deijin’s mind as they would never fail to say that he was the better man, the better lover, the better warrior as he drove his slick cock drenched within the juicies of their twats into them over and over again. The fact that some of the men would be outside the doors of the bar or hotel where the women had been waiting for them, listening in on the sensual noises with twisted faces caught somewhere between sorrow and rage, only served to inflate Deijin’s sense of superiority. Of course, the black and gold jackal would then pour salt into the open wound by walking out naked and covered in both sweat, semen and female juices to look the defeated warriors in question into the eye. He would say nothing to them, instead Deijin would give the shamefaced males his most cocksure smile before turning to gaze at the often comatose female that was lying prone behind him. The smell of his seed would be so thick within the air that it often saturated the walls of the room, and so when he finally did walk pass whoever it was that he had decided to take his amusement out on the black and gold jackal would pat the other on the shoulder before letting out a howl of laughter as he went on about his way. 

For months this went on without pause as the company moved from place to place at the behest of the emperor to route out everything from growing hordes of monsters to the occasional bands of insurgents, but of course nothing lasts forever, as Deijin quickly found out one night after a particularly harsh day of training. 

The black and gold jackal had been completely exhausted by the training he had put the others through following their march across the plains, and so he was completely taken aback when several figures dressed in hooded robes came into his tent and then quickly moved to bind and then gag him. He of course fought to get away from them, biting and headbutting the individuals in question as best he could, given his disadvantageous vantage point, however sheer numbers overwhelmed him in the end. He was then covered by a strange material that refused to give. Once he was made immboile, Deijin found himself carried off someplace. He tried to shout at those around him but the thick ball that had been strapped within his maw prevented him from saying much. Deijin would never know where he was taken to but he did know that everytime he tried to struggle free from his bonds he would be hit in the head, chest, and stomach by someone. 

The black and gold jackal swore blind that he would pay these individuals back in kind but his threats never came to be, as an unknown time later he was raised up and then tossed forward. The sense of free floating was an odd sensation to feel, as Deijin had never before experienced such a thing, and yet when it quickly came to an end upon his head hitting something hard he silently wished for it to return. His situation quickly grew worse, as seconds after his skull began ringing like the bell of a church, Deijin was dragged down into ice cold water. The sensation of cold was not something that the dune warrior often felt, as his homeland was always warm and often quite muggy according to those who came from outside the kingdom, even at night, and so upon having a sudden chill race throughout his body Deijin found himself startled to no end. 

And then his prison began filling with water.

Panic had never been an emotion that had bothered the black and gold jackal for attention back home, his power had often meant that there was little in the way that could actually harm him, but right then and there as his mouth filled with saltless water Deijin found the sensation completely overwhelming him. Fighting to get free from his bonds proved worthless as they refused to give, even under the force of his desperate struggles. When his mouth and nose were completely filled Deijin cried out for the first time in his life for help. Had he been in his regular frame of mind he would have probably chuckled at the irony of such a happening, after all, he was the most powerful warrior in all the lands, it made no sense that he would need anyone for anything. But right then as the weight of his own body dragged the bag down deeper into the waters around him Deijin just knew that he needed someone, anyone to try and aid him, otherwise…

He would die.

The thought of death was no stranger to a warrior, in truth, it was their bread and butter, but this wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen for Deijin! 

He wasn’t supposed to go out like this! 

His path should have found itself ending when he was finally cut down on the battlefield by someone who had more power than him, not like some trapped animal that had been casually thrown to the side to be forgotten. 

A sense of clarity overcame Deijin after several fruitless minutes of struggling; he would probably not even be found by someone until it was far too late...if they ever found him. 

Whoever had bound and then spirited him away had to have taken him pretty far if they were so casual about ensuring his death. That in itself made a sense of anger burn within Deijin’s mind, or perhaps it was the lack of oxygen. The cowards should have just killed him when they had the chance instead of doing something so heinous! It was a disgusting and dishonorable act that wasn’t worthy of a warrior such as himself! And yet…

When had he ever shown respect to anyone around him?

As the world around him blurred with the darkness that existed within his mind Deijin found himself unable to recall one time when he had ever treated anyone with any amount of respect. Sure, he obeyed his commanders back in the dunelands where he had come from, but he didn’t respect any of them. He feared them. Feared their power and control over him. The same as with his king. The leader of the jackals was no friend of his, not even when the other offered to duel him to the death for the throne, the other was simply doing as was expected of him in accordance with the laws of his people. Thinking back on it even more...Deijin couldn’t think of one person who he could have called upon right then for aid, not even in the hypothetical. 

Feeling his mind slowly start to grow distant and hazy Deijin chuckled mentally at how absurd this all was. Silently he wondered if the people who had done this to him had been paid by someone, or if this had been orchestrated by one of the innumerable people who he had pissed off in the past. It really didn’t matter right now, but it was still a better thought that the cloying sense of tightness which was latching onto his body. The sense of being dragged down into a wispy gloom was not something that Deijin could accurately describe, though it did feel somewhat familiar in a strange way. He struggled against it for a few moments but that only seemed to make it grasp onto him even tighter. When voiceless words began to echo throughout his mind the black and gold jackal wondered if he was approaching the valley of the shadow of death. He didn’t often wonder about what it would be like to die and then cross over into the realm beyond, despite knowing that such a place existed, but as the whispers within his head began to grow louder Deijin found himself wondering if he would see his parents here within the land beyond. 

Would they know him? Or would he be a stranger to them?

Deijin chuckled again. 

Did it really matter? 

The flicker of a light above him drew the dune warrior’s attention. The sound of a familiar voice calling his name confused Deijin. Reaching up to the small spark he found himself being pulled down even harder into the shadows beneath him; a strange feeling of anger and hate surrounded him as he was drawn away from the star of light, and yet it didn’t come from within. 

What is going on?

Deijin didn’t exactly know, but he found himself annoyed as he unconsciously struggled to try and free himself from the unrelenting grasp surrounding his being. 

When the pinprick of illumination above became brighter Deijin fought even harder to get to it, his will to reach out for the unknown light mixed with his unspoken desire not to die right now. 

Yes! He didn't want to die right then!

The gripping tendrils of anguish and malice fought harder to snatch him back but Deijin was a born fighter, and so he swiftly began to tear himself free from the darkness which clawed at him like a starving dog. Onwards and upwards Deijin fought to get to the light growing brighter and brighter up above him. It was only when he finally touched it that that twisted malice beneath him abated, thus allowing him to become a washed in the light of life. 

Deijin’s golden eyes flew open just as warm water gushed out from his lips. His head was immediately turned to the side by a warm paw. The black and gold jackal nodded to whomever was being so thoughtful even as he continued coughing up every ounce of liquid that had been trapped inside of his lungs.

“And here I thought that my efforts were just a waste of time.” His savior said making the thoroughly soaked warrior turned to regard him with a curious stare.

The face of a slightly dirty fox dressed in a now tattered set of robes stared back at him with a look that was somewhere between relief and annoyance. “J-Jeda?” The fox flicked his long ears twice before nodding slowly. “Wh-what’s going on?” Deijin asked before coughing more water out from his throat. 

“The short of it is that I just saved you from drowning in the river connected to the waterfall you had been thrown down into.” The bespectacled vulpine answered in a tone that grew more and more impassive as he spoke. “The longer version of this harrowing tale involves you getting your just desserts.” 

“What...what do you mean?” Deijin grunted as he shook himself down, the chill of the air around him making his already short fur rise up ever so slowly. 

“We’ll talk later,” The far eastern warrior said as he slowly stood up and then looked around the area that they happened to be in. “Right now I need to get us to someplace that won’t so easily be accosted by monsters.”

Deijin would have asked what this meant but in blinking his eyes several times the black and gold jackal noticed that wherever the two of them were now it was far removed from the camping grounds where the defence force had been stationed, as could be seen by the fact that the surrounding area was free from the dense forested area where he had ordered the others to settle the camp for the night. 

The sounds of something howling off in the distance made Deijin’s ears flick on top of his head. Trying to jump up to his feet to prepare himself for combat proved to be a very ill-thought idea as his still weakened body immediately collapsed to the ground when he attempted to get to his feet. Or rather, his body would have hit the ground had Jeda not swiftly caught him. 

“Please don’t do that again.” The warrior fox chided. “I am not a healer, and so I do not know what the full effects of surviving a near drowing are, yet I am wise enough to know that trying to go into battle after having survived such a harrowing event is stupid.” 

“Shut up.” Deijin growled while turning his head to look at the other warrior. “I can take care of myself without your help.”

To this Jeda simply dropped the black and gold jackal to the ground.