21.4.0

The next few hours passed quickly for Dirk and Zyrdicia - and Erik came to wonder whether he had already died and gone to Hell. He was tortured for sport in a dark, passionate game. Its senselessness left him empty and spiritually numb.

Had it been an act of war or somehow necessary to extract information, he could have at least understood its purpose. But nothing in his life prepared him for this sort of soulless perversion, delighting in suffering for its own sake.

More than once Erik had pleaded to Dirk just to kill him and get it over with. That only seemed to goad both his tormentors on - and encourage yet another blast of the infernal monocle - or worse, hellfire.

At some point, Zyrdicia had blinded him with her magic. Dirk had laughed. Erik was grateful at least that they had been too busy with each other to cut his eyes out. Not that the effect would be any different. His world was shrouded in darkness now. The sound of them, and the cruel pain in his shoulders, were all he sensed.

He expected to die tonight - slowly. He sighed bitterly, sensing his defeat. This time, there was no stopping Blackpool. Diabolic madness now reigned unchecked.

When the wicked couple was mostly sated, and finally becoming bored of the game, Zyrdicia grew weary of the constant assault on her senses which the presence of blood always entailed.

"Kill him," she pleaded.

"And why should I do that yet, kitten?" Dirk wondered fondly. She quivered in his arms, unable to come down from the sensory overload. Without the kill, there could be no release from the blood hunger. As long as Erik lived - and dripped nearby - she would remain wrapped in the coils of the infernal craving.

"Please," she whimpered, weary of the self-discipline required to control her urge to rip out the captive prince's throat and gorge.

Dirk regarded her, weighing it. She had been very, very well behaved with respect to the blood tonight. He was rather proud of that, in fact. He smiled darkly, intending to reward her. "As you wish."

He took his two-pronged dagger and approached is limp, barely conscious foe. "Tell me, Erik, do you still feel confident of your victory?

"Yes," Erik coughed, his head falling to the side. He was too weak to put up much of a defiant front.

"And yet your bravery has caused so much suffering for so many."

"You are the one who causes the suffering, Dirk."

"Had you surrendered over the summer, you would have saved thousands of lives. Your people would have food now."

"You would have found a reason to kill them even if I had surrendered."

"But you spared me the need to find a reason, Erik," Dirk crooned. He leaned near enough whisper in the dying prince's ear. "You'll go to your grave with their suffering on your conscience."

"Kill him!" Zyrdicia groaned impatiently, the scent of the blood needling her psyche to the point of irritation.

Ignoring her, Dirk offered cordially to his captive, "Surrender now on your father's behalf, and I will give you my word that the bloodshed will stop. Zyrdicia will have no need to use your populace for magical target practice then. I could have food there in a week."

"You would just poison them," Erik gulped.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it was only you I intended to poison, and your peasants got in the way. With you gone and your surrender in hand, they would be of more use to me alive than dead. Surrender, Erik!"

"Never!"

"Then you will have all the more bloodshed on your dead conscience."

Blinded as he was, Erik could not see Dirk's expression, but he heard the intensity in his old enemy's voice.

Dirk pressed on, "After you die, Erik, I will march into your kingdom and tell your starving, miserable masses that they suffered so long only because of the vanity of the Greystone and Baaldorf families. In the end, they will curse your very name."

"Dream on, Dirk," Erik breathed, his tone weary and resigned.

Seeing the nightmare of the vision strike home in his enemy's face, Dirk indulged in a cold laugh. "Yes, Erik, imagine it. I will conquer them. I will have raped the landscape with destruction and butchered the population. And in the end they will thank me for it and hate you for having resisted."

"I won't surrender to you. Ever."

"No matter," Dirk shrugged indifferently. "I'll genuinely enjoy ripping what's left of your kingdom apart and killing your family."

He traced the blade along Erik's throat, savoring the moment. He had waited so long for this. So many defeats, so many slights and insults - and it all came down to this. Only one thing was missing. "Beg for your life, Erik, and perhaps I'll spare you."

"Never!"

"Ah, well," Dirk smiled good-naturedly. "I would have killed you anyway, you know."

"Just get it over with, Dirk!"

"With pleasure."

Before the king could thrust the dagger's blade into Greystone's throat, a commotion in the hallway interrupted him. Another intruder rushed in.

"Sorry, I'm late, li'l brother!"

"Justin!" Erik smiled weakly, recognizing the voice.

"Plan B to the rescue!" Justin Greystone grinned, brandishing his sword. His smile faded when he saw Erik's predicament. "Dang. Wish I'd been here sooner, man. You all right there?"

An unseen force slammed Justin against the nearest wall hard enough to cause him to drop the sword in his hand.

"Crap! Maybe it's time to think about Plan C," he mumbled, rubbing his injured skull.

Zyrdicia moved to him before he had a chance to recover. The dazed prince stared at her dumbstruck.

In a dream-like stupor, he offered, "Hey-ya, darlin'! If I knew I'd start seeing visions as pretty as you, I'd bang my head more often."

Erik blurted out, "Justin, be careful. She's not-"

"--Quiet, man! I'm busy!" Justin smiled at the woman standing in front of him, his delighted gaze falling from her face to her bosom, where the neckline of the shirt she wore had yet to be buttoned. His eyes moved back up to her face, noting her flushed cheeks. He blinked in confusion, then grinned, "I'm Justin Greystone. Prince Justin Greystone."

Zyrdicia cocked her head curiously. "I know that name! I heard it in Kirilia."

"All the rumors are true," he smiled crookedly, proud of his fast reputation on Camerand's former vacation playground.

"The name is a synonym for some sort of social disease there, isn't it?"

"That was started by some woman's husband who -"

"Enough chit chat!" Dirk barked. "Put him up on chains with his brother."

Zyrdicia nodded, then invoked the magic. But this time, nothing happened. She had never yet experienced a magical mishap in which she invoked no power at all. This was entirely new.

"FUCK!" she growled. In lieu of chains, her glance sent Justin hurtling through the air towards Erik.

He hit the far wall with a thud, then groaned, "What tha?"

"How many times do you think I can throw you this way until I break every bone in your body, Justin?" Zyrdicia wondered angrily, tossing with bone-crushing force quickly against another wall. "I'd bet you have a fewer than a half dozen left in you."

"Ugh - I'd take that bet, darlin'," he mumbled, dazed. This time he shook it off a bit more quickly and managed to stand - with the help of a nearby wall, pulling himself up by a silk tapestry. "Err-what's goin' on, Erik?"

"The demon!" Erik snapped. His head whirred from side to side, trying to figure out where she was. "I tried to tell you."

"Huh? What demon?"

"Blackpool's new toy."

"For real?" Justin asked, both brows shooting up. "Never saw a demon look like that."

Justin turned to Dirk, "Man, I thought you had out done yourself taking the throne while your dad's still alive. Marrying a real, live demon takes the cake!"

"My domestic affairs are none of your concern."

"Nah." Justin's eyes moved slyly back to Zyrdicia, "But maybe they oughta be."

Dirk's two-pronged dagger flew threw the air at the man's throat. A second before it reached the prince's neck, the air shimmered. The dagger's movement froze mid-air. It hung there, magically suspended.

A familiar, blonde female shape materialized in the room then.

"Bethel!" Dirk hissed.

"Nice of you to drop in, sugar,'" Justin grinned. He whispered to his confused brother, "Erik, did I mention Plan C?"

"Hello, Dirk," Bethel smiled spitefully.

"So you've betrayed your Council orders and switched allegiance to another royal family, Bethel?" Dirk hissed.

"A prince is, after all, a prince." The Witch's gaze travelled slowly over the familiar bedroom, passing over the new queen as though she were transparent. Bethel noted the shackles hanging on the bed's headboard and arched an eyebrow.

Her gaze levelled at Dirk. She warned, "I will get my monocle back. Make no mistake about that, Dirk."

The Witch quickly grabbed hold of the Greystone brothers and disappeared, her expression triumphant.

21.4.1

"You failed!" Dirk bellowed, glaring at Zyrdicia.

"ME?!" she replied, her own voice raised to match his. "YOU are the one who wasted time -- practically stroking yourself while you begged him to surrender."

Dirk glared at her furiously. It had been a long time since he wanted to strike her. He wanted to now very badly. "The wasted time was your idea. He would have already been dead if I had taken him to the dungeon as I originally planned!"

"You could have killed Erik any time you wanted. Asking him to beg for mercy? What the fuck was that?"

"You-"

"I strung him up for you. I blinded him. You told me not to incinerate him - you insisted you wanted to save the kill for yourself. All you fucking had to do was stick a knife in him. Don't even try to blame this on me! When I set out to kill someone, I never miss the opportunity!"

Dirk growled angrily then pounded both fists against the wood of the table in front of him, splitting the wood.

Undaunted, Zyrdicia could not resist one final jab. "And at least I keep my ex from dropping in uninvited."

"Ignoring, of course, every time you fall asleep alone!"

Zyrdicia's mouth opened slightly, then closed. She was without an immediate reply. She frowned petulantly, "That's different."

"Yes, it's far more annoying," Dirk sneered.

"But at least I have a plan to kill my ex," she answered quietly. She changed the subject from Azriok quickly back to Bethel. "Do you?"

"Naturally."

"Did you know she joined forces with them?"

"Do you think she would be alive if I had?! I had thought you had sent Vulkar to kill her. You should have told me your demon failed."

"I hadn't given them a second thought," Zyrdicia shrugged. She had forgotten the episode at the coronation entirely. She inhaled slowly, thinking. "Let's destroy her monocle to teach her a lesson."

"No. That is mine! Had you given it to me in the first place, she would not have dared to do this."

"I'm not giving it to you tonight. Don't even go there. You know why I'm holding it - and what you have to do to get it."

Dirk's eyes narrowed menacingly. "The Edict makes that impossible."

"Do you want to fight about the Edict now, or deal with Bethel?" Zyrdicia glared.

"I'll kill her myself," Dirk muttered impatiently, then stormed out of the room.