12.1.0

Alone in his chambers, Dirk poured himself a drink. Zyrdicia had departed a short time ago in order to take care of some errand or other, promising to return shortly. The unexpected physical diversion had taken some of the edge off of his grim mood, but he was still in an altogether unpleasant disposition.

Zyrdicia's bizarre relationship with pain had fit his mood wonderfully on this occasion. In that way, she was ideally suited to him. Making her shudder blissfully in agony was a marvelous way to release stress. It gave him an absolute measure of control over her that he rarely had otherwise.

Despite her remarkable creativity, however, he felt increasingly frustrated by the magical constraints which limited their physical relationship. The thought of any other entity laying claim to her infuriated him. In his mind, she belonged to him - her unholy innocence, her laughter, her hyper-sensuality and most of all, her destructive power. The Edict provided the only glaring exception.

He sat down with his brandy in his favorite chair. As he stared at the flames raging in the fireplace, he considered what he should do about his father.

Zyrdicia reappeared a short time later. She had changed into full-length leather and wore her magical mail coat. He had not seen her wear it since they had laid waste to Tronin a few months ago.

She looked at him impatiently and complained, "You are brooding again already? We can't have that." She took the brandy out of his hand and set it aside.

"You look like you are dressed for battle. Where have you been?" he asked suspiciously.

"You'll see in a few minutes. Go put your armor back on and get your weapons."

"Are you mad?" Dirk asked irritably. "It's the middle of the night."

"And? When else would I be awake? We're going hunting. Killing will do wonders to relieve whatever is gnawing at you. Trust me." She tugged him up out of the chair and nudged him to move. "Go get ready. Otherwise I'll teleport you to the hunting ground just as you are!"

He glared at her in annoyance. He had no doubt she would follow through on the threat. He got dressed reluctantly. "What do you intend to hunt?"

"Humans, of course."

"Where?"

"An island I own."

"What is the purpose of this hunt?" he asked as he buckled his scabbard around his waist.

"Fun, obviously." She noticed him reaching for his crossbow and shook her head. "You won't need that. Tonight you will use the monocle."

Dirk stared at her. Whatever she had in mind interested him more now. "Let's go then."

12.1.1

Dirk and Zyrdicia waited in a well-appointed seaside villa while black sand ran through a silver hourglass. The game required giving the chosen prey a head start. The prince was not surprised to discover how elaborate her hunting game was. All her games were elaborate.

He looked carefully at a detailed relief map of the island next to the hourglass. The tiny, tropical island was nothing more than a game board consisting of countless, ingeniously designed dead-ends. Her prey would be forced to run around the game board, trapped like a mouse in a maze. There was no way on or off the island, other than by magic. She imported victims, hand-picked from the Lyrian slave market by her friend, Kaz-- usually gladiators or prisoners of war, selected for their resourcefulness and potential challenge. Occasionally she also stocked the island with monsters, though she preferred to use humans. She often brought her friends here to enjoy it with her. Magnus loved to play.

Zyrdicia called to Dirk from outside on the veranda. "Come show me much force you can you conjure through the monocle!" she beckoned cheerfully. One of the groundskeepers happened to be walking from the house toward the prey pens. She gestured toward the unsuspecting man.

Dirk aimed the magical lens suspended around his neck. A green shimmer of light burst forth from it. The hapless victim writhed in pain as it struck him. Zyrdicia watched the reaction carefully, nodding slowly. The prince was much better with it than he had been when she arrived in Aparans. She froze the man in place after he recovered.

She looked at Dirk thoughtfully and commented, "You aren't accessing all of power stored in it when you do that. If you let me in your mind, I will show you how to make the energy produced much more devastating. More than I've shown you ever before. Possibly even more than Vector and Bethel understand."

"Why can't you just send me the thought telepathically as you have on previous occasions?" he asked suspiciously.

"Those were minor, performative spells - thoughts to trigger a specific magical result. This is more a matter of working with the very manner in which you connect with the magical energy. I think I can help you do it more effectively." She reassured, "You already know how to cast me out of your mind if you decide the sensation is unpleasant. You did so quite successfully when we first met."

Dirk looked away, considering it. He had no other way of learning how to harness the monocle's full powers. Vector certainly was not going to reveal its secrets. Bethel he preferred to avoid altogether right now. He met Zyrdicia's gaze and nodded reluctantly in assent.

She caressed his psyche with her mind just as she did when she kissed him. He felt her presence much more deeply in his head than he ever had before. He did not have the sensation that she was rummaging through his thoughts this time though. She was simply lingering.

"Unlock your hatred from wherever it dwells here in your mind," she coaxed silently. "All of it. For every enemy you've ever had. Whatever problems you have now. Bring out your hatred for all of it." It would have been easy enough for her to search for the emotion and gather it from its home in his mind. She would not have had to look far. She suspected the sensation would disturb him, though. She was trying very hard not to do that. She had no intention of letting him discover that she was actually trying to find out the source of his mood earlier. Showing him a new trick with the monocle was a convenient trade-off and served as a useful pretext to get inside his mind.

Zyrdicia was not surprised by the vast amount of the dark emotion which suddenly overwhelmed all other thoughts in his psyche. It pleased her. In it, she caught a whiff of his anger toward his father. She traced the emotional thread effortlessly and suddenly understood all that she needed to. It was interesting enough to her that she intended to pay Saris a visit and rummage through the comatose king's memory.

Having what she needed, she gathered all of the malice in Dirk's psyche, fondly nudging and wheedling still more out of him. This darkest, most vicious aspect of his being she affectionately fondled and stroked, focussing it with her mind into a single, compact psychic essence. When she was satisfied with it, she directed this concentrated essence forcefully through the monocle. The prince gasped at the sensation of unadulterated power as the magical charge exploded like an unholy, psychic orgasm.

The frozen groundskeeper became the recipient of all of the malevolence of which Dirk Blackpool's psyche was capable. The monocle translated his hatred into pure, magical force. A grisly, hissing sound accompanied the victim's vaporization.

Zyrdicia withdrew from his mind and watched his face silently for a moment. He was in awe of his own power. It was the same expression he wore after a particularly intense physical encounter with her. She found that very droll, though she bit back the urge to laugh. She smiled, "At least I don't have to wonder whether you enjoyed it."

His brow furrowed slightly. He asked quietly, "Why did you reveal to me how to do that?"

She shrugged, "The thrill of it, I suppose. I have no reason to be threatened by your use of magic."

"Why aren't you afraid that someday I'll use it against you?"

"This is child's play. " She touched his cheek with a gloved hand. Her face became a mask of characteristic inhuman innocence. "If you ever were to try to wield it against me, I would catch the energy and rip your psyche out of your body, shatter the monocle and killing you in the process."

Dirk gave her a cold look before catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. "This puts to bed your theory that I cannot use the monocle for lethal ends."

12.1.2

Small waves broke against an unseen reef, only to creep softly up the volcanic, black sand of the island's beach. The scent of the sea mixed with that of gardenias and coconut in the fragrant breeze as the first glimmer of dawn stirred on the horizon.

The hunt had been a marvelous diversion. The man they tracked had been clever, hiding in trees and moving silently as he ran for his life. Zyrdicia's ability to sense her prey's presence was uncanny. She had smelled him near long before they had figured out where the wretch lurked in the branches above them.

Dirk enjoyed hunting beasts, but he found this far more challenging and fulfilling. The thrill of tracking an opponent fully cognizant of his predicament was delicious. It was vastly superior to mastering a wild creature unaware of what was happening. The rational, knowing terror of human prey was something very special. He had relished the opportunity to slay the man with the monocle, truly savoring the new-found skill.

As he looked up at the fading morning stars above the beach, a hint of a smile escaped his lips. Zyrdicia ran her fingers through his hair. His head rested in her lap as he reclined comfortably upon the ebony sand.

"Did I succeed in banishing your demons?" she asked, looking down and noticing his content expression.

"Your efforts were effective, as always." He met her eyes and was struck again by how eerily beautiful she was. He had no idea why she cared that he had been distressed, but he was pleased that she did. No one had ever gone to such lengths to retrieve him from a dark mood. Those nearest him invariably chose simply to leave him alone, fearing his wrath. They never exhibited concern or a desire to lift his spirits. He realized that he rather enjoyed the affection from her.

He turned his head toward the sea. His father's words about needing an heir echoed unexpectedly through his head. As a young man, the prince tended to envision himself deserving to wed an exquisite, majestic woman who would be totally devoted to his happiness. Such a woman did not exist in Aparans. The land's princesses and noblewomen were insipid and senseless. Few had succeeded in living up to his expectations long enough to warrant any affection. As an adult he had come to recognize marriage as the political institution it was-- a mechanism to coax a treacherous Witch into subservience or to gain land, perhaps. He had no illusions about love. He believed it was a fiction invented by idle poets with too much time on their hands.

In Zyrdicia, he had a creature more goddess than woman, yet she was the antithesis of the submissive, well-bred archetype he envisioned as a mate. Yet with her under his control he could not only conquer all of Aparans, but the entire world. She was clever, amusing and tremendously powerful. On the rare occasions when she put aside her penchant for childishness and irritation, she was beguiling. She was diabolically destructive and cruel, and yet it seemed his entire army and citizenry now worshipped the ground she walked upon. They adored her for it, rather than fearing or loathing her as they did him.

Without even trying, through her obsessive mass popularity, she unknowingly came to wield more political power in the North than any woman in history. Yet it meant nothing to her. Though the adulation pleased her, she found the politics of his court insufferably boring. She mocked his advisors and nobles so openly that they thought she was teasing them good-naturedly and laughed along with her at the merciless jabs. Almost anything she said they regarded as delightful and charming, no matter how cutting or vicious.

The distrustful prince understood the danger the situation represented. He also recognized the potential opportunity. Through an official union with the alleged incarnation of Saxarba he could proclaim himself king instantly-by divine right-and face no opposition whatsoever. He could dissolve the Baronial Council and eliminate its ratification of ascension. His power would be boundless and unchecked. He would not have to wait for his father to die or abdicate. And yet for all the apparent perfection of such a plan, it was impossible. A hypothetical betrothal with her could never be consummated or produce an heir, for she was fettered to a demon somewhere in Hell. His mind carefully avoided addressing the fact that he knew she would laugh hysterically at any suggestion of such a scheme.

"Are you certain the demon's Edict can never be undone?" he asked suddenly, so relaxed that he was thinking out loud. That was rare indeed.

"Should I hazard a guess as to what you are thinking about?" she laughed.

"You should answer my question, instead."

"As long as Azriok persists, so does his Edict."

"But you have already slain him a half dozen times, or so you told me."

"Only material projections. And I probably only succeeded because he let me. It's not the same thing."

"What would it require?"

Her expression darkened as she recalled her most recent encounter with Azriok in Tenaebra. "Crossing all Hell's demons to reach that realm's darkest most, most magical recess. Then fighting a creature more cunning than most gods in the place where his power is strongest and he has every advantage. Some Sephiroth claim he is already more powerful than Zyr. That battle is not on my agenda this week. I flirt with Death, but I'm not about to fu-" She paused, her eyes widening as she caught herself. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it. "Oops. I mean I am not suicidal."

Dirk ignored her retreat to her preferred vocabulary. He was not the only one who was relaxed apparently. He was silent for a long time. The next question escaped his mouth before he realized his words. "Does it disappoint you that you will never bear children?"

Zyrdicia grimaced as though such a thought were bitter, answering, "Ugh. Of course not. I would be more likely to eat my young then nurture them." She paused a moment then added, "Do you remember that you asked me once why Zyr went to so much trouble to create me?"

"As I recall, you evaded the question."

"He intended for me to create a new, magical race of humans as part of a plan to escape his eventual destruction. Breeding with certain mortals was the point of his plan. He designed me to create rather than destroy."

"You don't sound as though you approve."

"Had Azriok not intervened with the Edict, I would have cut out my ovaries with a dagger before I would have acquiesced to Zyr's use for me."

Dirk's eyes widened slightly at her choice of words. Her tone underscored her seriousness. "What do you mean by 'certain humans' - who?"

She glanced across the water and noted the glare of the sunrise with disapproval, refusing to answer. She realized ruefully that she had already said more than she should have. The light reflecting off the water left her photosensitive eyes momentarily sunblind. "Damn the sun!" she cursed under her breath. She transported them back to his chambers in Castle Blackpool, eager to escape the unwelcome glow and put an end to his bizarre query.