22.11

Kendall Kraxton had always been useful to Dirk. As a boy, the knight had served as Dirk's squire. Dirk had taken him along to serve him in the training and weapons competitions at the Royal School. Back then, Kendall's skill with a sword was second only Dirk's in the North.

Years ago when Saris had attacked the Western Perimeter, Kendall had followed the prince to the front lines and proven himself an able warrior and strategist. He was one of the few vassals Dirk trusted with unpleasant, sensitive treachery in those days. Kendall was smart enough to understand the unspoken importance of the royal heir's need for plausible deniability when schemes unraveled. He was smart enough to pretend he was acting independently to keep Dirk's name out of any botched conspiracies back then.

Dirk had no immediate desire to meet with his old vassal, though. He was much too ill-humored. He could not bear to speak with anyone at all.

The newspaper story about Zyrdicia 'dumping' him had wounded him deeply. He suspected that all of Aperans must be laughing at him now.

Knowing that she would rather leave him than acknowledge what had happened between them was bitterly painful by itself. But it became all the more excruciating when it was a subject of public scrutiny. He regretted marrying her. In fact, right now he regretted ever becoming involved with her. No one had ever had the power to hurt him like this.

Alone in his study now, Dirk glanced at the first pressing of his kingdom's new currency. The new platinum coins were much smaller and thinner than the old gold kolnas. They featured an image of Castle Blackpool on one side, and his personal crest on the other. It was an improvement over the face of his father that used to glower from the old coinage.

Still, it was an unwelcome reminder of the woman responsible for the new currency. He frowned, his mood darkening palpably.

Four days had past without so much as a word from her. This time he felt no desire to locate her, to go to her in some inconvenient place and waste time with senseless pleas for her return. He had no wish to ever lay eyes on her, in fact. She would only want to mock him for what he had said. The shame was insufferable.

He closed his eyes, berating himself silently for the thousandth time for his own stupidity. It was undoubtedly his greatest miscalculation of all time.

The air in the room shifted almost imperceptibly then. His heart raced as he sensed Zyrdicia was in the room even with his eyes closed. The sudden scent of her perfume in the air confirmed it. He scowled, opening his eyes only to glare at her silently.

She stood a few feet in front of the couch, smiling mysteriously. She clutched a thin black book and a copy of the Lyrian Liar in one hand.

Dirk assumed that she did not yet know that he had already seen the article about being 'dumped' yesterday. She was undoubtedly here to watch him react to it. He was certain that she had brought it now only to taunt him with the viciousness she had arranged to print in the newspaper. That thought enraged him.

"How dare you return here?" he hissed.

She blinked in surprise, expecting a warmer reception. She set the items in her hand down upon the table at the end of the couch where he still sat. Her smile faded. She asked tentatively, "You're mad at me for leaving?"

He smiled coldly as though it were a stupid question. The hyper-innocence in her eyes angered him. She may have come here intending to twist the knife she had left in his heart, he thought bitterly, but he knew enough about her own weaknesses to return the favor. His mind raced, plotting revenge quickly.

She took a deep breath and began, "I was really upset by what you said. You know how I feel about that word. But-"

"-Zyrdicia, really," he interrupted, sneering. "Can it be that you did not realize that I was lying?"

She gazed at him silently, considering this unexpected possibility. She had not been inside his head when he had said that he loved her the first time. They had still been fighting. She shook her head adamantly, dismissing it. She had been connected to his thoughts later, as he repeated it. In fact, he had said it again several times during sex. She was sure that it could not have been a lie.

"Oh, come now," he jeered. "You can't have truly believed I meant it. You aren't even human."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she frowned.

He gave her a long, knowing look, then answered, "How could I possibly love something like you? You are more of a demon than a woman. Really, Zyrdicia. I could just as well love a Grox." He paused, calculating for an instant. His eyes twinkled wickedly as he added, "I admit the novelty of it all was quite amusing. But, my dear, now that I've had you, the novelty has worn off."

Her expression never wavered. She simply stared intently, too surprised to have any immediate emotional reaction.

He did not give her a chance to say anything. His only advantage would be lost unless he pressed the attack before she could respond. He continued frostily, "Now that your magic is all but useless, I really have no more need for you. I cannot tolerate magical misfires from you any more than I could from Vector. Since you've shown me how to access the monocle's power, there is really no need for me to continue to pretend that I need you. Your departure saved me the need to find a way to rid myself of you."

"I know you don't really feel that way," she said darkly.

Seeing that his words had found their mark, he replied, "My dear, you underestimate my power to deceive you. I invented thoughts of affection to feed to you. Your desperation to believe them was laughable." He was disappointed that her face remained stubbornly expressionless. She almost looked as though she did not quite comprehend his words. He continued cruelly, "Your pathetic fear of loneliness and of your demon tormentors made it almost too easy. You believed what you wanted to believe."

She held his gaze silently for half a minute, as though waiting for a cue that it was just a strange jest. She vanished an instant later, having nothing at all to say to him. Conversation had become a useless tool in the span of scarcely a minute.

Dirk hoped desperately that he had hurt her. He was disappointed that doing it did not make him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse. Now it was truly over between them. The realization hit him harder than any blow she had rained upon him in the East Tower.

Every single word he had uttered just now had been a lie. He was a very talented liar. However much she might try to disbelieve it, he knew that seeds of doubt had been planted in her head that would grow into massive monsters as she dwelled on the conversation.

He sighed heavily. She had brought it upon herself, mocking him publicly as she had in the newspaper. Private quarrels he could tolerate; public disparagement was unforgivable.

His eye fell upon the book and newspaper she had left behind. His stomach turned at the sight of them. He snapped open the issue of the Lyrian Liar grimly, surprised to see that it was today's edition and not the one containing the article about 'dumping' him.

Grimacing, he turned to the interview with inside the issue. By the time he had finished reading it with her, his hands were trembling. No matter how witless he had felt for saying he loved her, he now felt a thousand times stupider. Whatever elation he should have felt in reading what she had said withered as he remembered her blank expression as she departed a moment ago.

Panic-stricken, he reached out to her desperately with his mind. She was not only not listening, but she was completely severed from him. But he would not have even known what to say had he been able to reach her. There were simply no words that could possibly undo this.

22.11.1

Nearly an hour passsed before Dirk could bring himself to look at the second item she had left behind. It was a very slim, ancient little book. The silver leaf stamped on the black cover read: "1369^th Prophecy of the Sacred Order of the Zyrian Priesthood. Curse of the Seraphim."

The book was in such a decaying state that its pages were crumbling. He turned them with great care and began to read.

"The Curse of the Seraphim.

"The following story was foreseen in the 519^th year before the Twilight. It is recounted as it transpired in the prophet's vision, as it will happen, as it must happen.

"Shortly before the Twilight, a magical princess was born to Zyr, Highest Lord of Hell, from whom all darkness flows. There had not been a new angel born since the dawn of time, so there was much rejoicing. All of the Sephiroth wept that Zyr intended to send her soul to the world of men, for she was a precious babe.

"Before she departed, all the dark angels showered their gifts upon Hell's little princess. Zyr gave the gift of his magic that she might make mortals tremble; the next angel stepped forward to give her a gift that her beauty would outshine everyone around her. The next cast a spell that she should have the cleverness to deceive all mankind; the third, that she should have a wonderful grace in everything she did, especially in causing great destruction; the fourth, that she should be cruel and merciless so that she might delight in others' suffering; the fifth, that she should be blessed with unparalleled riches so that she might make the whole world envious; the sixth, that she should be ever youthful and never know the decay of mortal flesh; the eighth that she might appear ever innocent so that no one would suspect the danger she posed.

"Finally, the fairest among them was jealous of the others' gifts. He wanted his gift to delight the girl more than any other. He ripped forth his own black heart, offering it to the young child. At first she devoured it greedily, but then she tasted its bitterness and spit it back at the angel. Full of rage, he resolved that his 'gift' would be that of eternal loneliness. He carried the princess away to the world of men and bespelled her so that she should waste away, alone in a magic castle. He wrapped her in bonds of the darkest magic so that she might come to regret spurning him.

"Soon there grew up all round about the magic abode such a vast number of thorns, great and small, bushes and brambles, twining one within another, that neither man nor beast could pass through. There the princess lived alone while all the world marvelled at her the beauty of the prison from afar. Countless brave souls ventured near it to glimpse and admire the beautiful, lonely princess. The thorns captured them and impaled them until the castle was surrounded by the corpses of innumerable men and beasts.

"The princess suffered her solitude with great courage. She never called the wicked angel who put her there to ask for his mercy. Haughty and willful, she preferred to languish by herself than reward her captor for his cruelty. And the fairest angel suffered miserably for this, as his heart still bore her teeth-marks.

"When a hundred years were gone, there passed the mortal son of the king asked what those towers were which he saw in the middle of a great thick wood. Everyone answered according to frightful rumor. Some said that it was a place haunted by demons and filled with beasts. Others suggested it was filled with magic of such power that the one who claimed it would someday conquer the world.

"The prince was indecisive for a moment, not knowing what to believe, when he saw the princess staring down at him from one of the castle's towers. She beckoned him to come to her so that she might enjoy the spectacle of his demise on the magical thornbush.

"She was the most beautiful woman this prince could imagine and his heart was all on fire at the merest sight of her. Pushed on by desire, he resolved that moment to go to her.

"He had scarcely advanced toward the castle when all the great bushes and brambles gave way of themselves to let him pass through. Zyr aided him in secret and cleared his way, for the mighty lord of Hell plotted an end to the fairest angel's wickedness.

"The prince walked up to the castle, and knowing no fear, he went into it. He came into a spacious outward court, where everything he saw might have frozen the bravest heart with horror. There reigned all around a most frightful silence; the image of death everywhere showed itself, and there was nothing to be seen but stretched-out bodies of men and animals, all dead, their bodies retrieved from the horrible thornbush.

"He then crossed a great hall paved with platinum, went up the stairs and at last he came into a chamber adorned with sapphires and diamonds, where he saw upon a chair, the finest sight was ever beheld -- a young woman whose resplendent beauty was such that it seemed touched of divinity. He approached with trembling and admiration, and fell down before her upon his knees.

"Hell's princess found this mortal prince very handsome and greatly admired his strength and courage. Immediately infatuated, they talked for many hours of his plan to take her from this grim place. His kisses melted her heart, but she was spiteful, and she disguised her affection for him at first. After so many years alone, she was also dreadfully bored.

"But the mortal prince was persistent and clever. He sensed this magical girl's power and desired to possess it as his own. He would not be swayed by her attempts to frighten him with stories of the wicked angel who locked her in the castle. But still the princess could not leave, for that angel's magic was strong.

"He visited the princess every night for months, bringing her treasures and amusing her with his wit. The time came when her delight was such that she grew angry whenever he arrived but a single minute late. She could not bear to be without his company. Her fondness touched the prince's heart, and he came to spend his days there as well as his nights. His kingdom fell to neglect as its ruler vanished into the magic castle.

"As winter came, even the days and nights in the prince's company no longer satisfied the princess, for she still feared he might someday leave her alone again in the dreadful castle. But the prince now loved her truly and promised never to leave her side. But his beautiful princess still would not be satisfied, for she believed the wicked angel would conspire to take him from her.

"Weeping, the princess declared her love for the prince. She took two beautiful silver daggers from a drawer lined in purple velvet. Placing one in his hand, she explained that she wanted to be with him always. Only in death could she escape the wicked angel who trapped her. Horrified, the doting prince pushed the blade away. But she told him that if he truly loved her, he must kill her now, and she would do the same for him that they might be together always and prevent her tormentor from separating them.

"They kissed one last time, then plunged the knives into each other's hearts. The castle vanished then, for she had truly defeated the fairest-"

The story ended abruptly, as a page appeared to be missing. Dirk frowned, frustrated at the break. The next page continued:

"--as the Seraphim Curse of love melted the power of the fairest angel's spell. The fairest angel had foolishly forgotten that the princess had been sent to the mortal world in human form, and for all his meddling, he could never disrupt the one curse the Seraphim had placed upon humanity at Creation. The little princess had been made vulnerable to its power the moment she had been sent into the world of mortals.

"The devoted couple awoke a short time later, shaken but unharmed. They found themselves safely asleep beneath the shade of a lovely tree, not all too far from the prince's own palace.

"His kingdom was jubilant at his return. They were married soon thereafter, and everyone marvelled at her beauty. With her magic, in a short time, his armies came to conquer the world and this prince founded a great empire. They had many children, all nearly as beautiful as the princess herself.

"All but the fairest angel lived happily ever after."

Dirk sighed unhappily. He understood what she must have seen in this peculiar little story. The absurdity of it was sweet, coming from her, especially in light of her frequent insistence that the Priest's prophecies were a grand hoax.

He wished desperately that he could take back the moment he had foolishly uttered those preposterous lies to her. Had he but let her speak, it might have all turned out differently.