Chapter 6: Time and Envy

"Vanderbilt."

"I'm here, it's… Dessi," the Princess said into the wall communicator.

The door opened, and John was standing there with a smile. He was expecting her for a private lesson in his suite regarding the discovery of any new powers, especially from the Seven Wonders. She noticed he was dressed down in a black button-up shirt tucked into a pair of slacks, and he was only wearing socks on his feet. He let Desdemona into his suite, where it was dark. That all changed when he closed the door, and the Princess gasped when a dozen candles around the room seemed to light themselves, giving a dim environment for them to be in. She saw her uncle's hand go down from being in the air, knowing full well he used his defining power to ignite the wicks.

"Uncle John… I…"

"Don't have the book I asked you to bring?" he finished her sentence curiously.

"No, but… hold on."

She walked toward the mirror that stood near the kitchen area, and concentrated. He watched her display of conjuration, seeing that the mirror became foggy to the point where she could not even see her reflection. It also seemed to ripple, signaling her to reach into the surface as if she were intangible and pull out an old leather tome. Once it was out of the mirror, it returned to its solid state once more, and she smiled at her reflection. She heard John applauding her behind her and she turned.

"Yes, very well done. Conjuration," he smiled.

Desdemona decided to take it even further and set the book on the dining table in the suite. The leather cover was illuminated by the light of three candles, and she opened the book to the pages describing all of the Seven Wonders with just her mind, her palms facing down toward the book. He smiled and nodded, impressed as he watched the pages rapidly flip to the correct one.

"Again, well done. Telekinesis. What else can you do? Show me."

Ba-eh-eh-eh… ba-eh-eh-eh…

John heard a familiar animal sound, and as it resumed, he traced it to his bedroom, gasping to see that there was a large black goat on his bed, making its trademark, deep sound as it

"Ave Satanas," he said reverently, seeing the symbol of the goat as sacred. Then he snapped out of it, "alright, get out!"

Desdemona laughed as she saw the goat leave the bedroom, and she reached down to pat it. John looked down at her and shook his head: "conjuration again?"

"No, it isn't real," the Princess said, patting the black goat on its behind to get it to go back into the bedroom where it came from. John rolled his eyes and chased the goat only to see that nothing was in his room. He was impressed and amazed – she performed illusion manipulation with minimal effort.

"Wow… it's gone."

"I told you he wasn't real," Desdemona said. "I used it to create snakes in Anathem's bed once because he got me angry." She paused. "My mother had a heart attack. She hates snakes. I was two. You should have seen the look on his face when he woke up the next day. He was so scared."

John chuckled, and had an idea. He remembered when Desdemona accidentally killed herself with her first real display of telekinesis, a power he encouraged her to foster. In the Clinic, where Elijah used vitalum vitalis to bring her back to life and full health, he was under the King's concilium until Desdemona intervened. The King was immensely powerful as it was, and to negate his powers was an impressive feat for anyone. She also was so young even still – he looked at her and tried to silently coerce her to do something, the ultimate end goal being to walk closer toward him. The Princess looked at him with confusion, and seemed to be subconsciously fighting his use of concilium – usually, to resist this power while under it was extremely dangerous. It had been known to cause aneurisms in those who resisted. Desdemona was looking at him and laughing; no blood was coming from her eyes or nose.

"Very impressive," he said, resorting to something more tactile. He used pyrokinesis and tried to make her go up in flames, but instead, Desdemona's instincts cancelled the fire out before it could even spark. He repeated himself, in awe of what the girl could do. "Very impressive!"

"I don't want to die again, thank you. The first time really sucked," the Princess said.

"No, no. You also are capable of power negation. That isn't very common," John replied. "You could really use that one day."

"One day? Why, do you see something happening to me?"

"Desdemona… you are meant to be Queen, and a great one at that," John revealed, knowing this through his proficient divination skills. "I am very sure that now, your father, the King, knows that. I have known that ever since I really got to know you more being a student of the Azazel Academy. I was gone for most of your life, but now that I am here… I see that you are very powerful. I also know there is so much more you can do. You have so much potential…which is why I invited you here."

Knock-knock…

John rolled his eyes and walked toward the automated communication attached to the wall, pressing the button and speaking into it: "Vanderbilt."

"It's Lydia and Cecilia," the voice on the other side said. "Let us in."

"I'm a little busy."

"Of course, you are," said Lydia's voice.

"Desdemona!" Cecilia exclaimed, having a clairvoyant vision of her being in there behind the closed door. "Hello there!"

John reluctantly opened the door, and Desdemona smiled at her friend and relative, who smiled back. Lydia, however, was highly suspicious of the fact that the Princess was alone with someone like John in his suite of all places. She focused on him, a glare in her blue eyes as John looked back at her with a seductive smirk. Don't you dare look at me like that, you hound, she thought.

"Why do you need to see me?"

"I just wanted to. Why is Desdemona with you?"

"We are practicing her powers."

"And I am supposed to be her instructor, not you," Lydia challenged.

"We are not on class time," John smirked.

"That makes it worse."

John looked over to his daughter, especially proficient in clairvoyance and lectio animo, and instructed her to help Desdemona demonstrate some kind of similar ability even if it was divination: "Cecilia, do me a favor and verify her answers for me."

"Okay?"

"Desdemona, what color am I thinking of?"

Her eyes widened, and she blurted out the first thing to come to mind: "uh… teal?"

"Wrong," Cecilia said, reading her father's soul, "it was red."

"Next question. What number is on my mind?" He looked to his daughter, "don't tell her."

"It's… uh…" She tried to make the effort to concentrate, saying her chosen number when she felt confident enough. "73?"

"Wrong," Cecilia repeated. "It was 12."

"You need to work on that, Desdemona. Maybe we should focus on divination for you," John winked.

"No offense, but your divination skills suck."

"Watch your language, that's the Princess!" Lydia said sharply.

"It's quite alright. I know I suck at it," Desdemona chuckled. She looked at John, who looked back at her and right into her eyes. "I… think I am going to go now, but I'll be back for another lesson soon!"

"Of course," he smiled tenderly, seeing the Princess join his daughter, Cecilia and walk out of the compound past Lydia. The redheaded demonic woman walked into the suite and glared at John angrily with disgust. He could sense these on her, and when she spoke, her voice seemed to shake.

"Will you ever grow out of this shit, John?" she asked rhetorically.

His eyes widened with such shock it nearly shook him. "Excuse me?!"

"You know what I'm talking about, John. You are a hound for pussycat. I saw how you looked at Desdemona, our own Princess, just now. She is a girl, damn you!"

He felt his fiery anger burning inside him. He was so tempted to channel it into setting her on fire right then and there, but he controlled himself with such poise and attitude: "incest is one of the best taboos to indulge in, but I would never, and I mean NEVER touch that girl. She is my niece. The King would destroy me. Do you think I am that deviant, Lydia?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," she said spitefully. "All these years, even when we didn't know our relation to one another, you've had, reveled and rutted with every woman in this sanctuary and defiled every young woman once they were of age, all except the Queen and Princess perhaps… and Cecilia…"

"She's my daughter. I'd never lie with any of my own children," he grunted, moving closer to her. "Leave my suite, you crazy bitch. Who I fuck is none of your business, anyhow."

Lydia felt like killing him – for years, she had felt deep, but unrequited love toward him, her own half-brother. Even after they found out their relation, she could never bear to let the feelings die down. She had only one child, Cecilia, by him, and her younger brother was also fathered by him. Her mother died a second death giving birth to the baby, so now, Lydia was his caretaker and teacher even though he was close in age with Cecilia. Even when he was sent away to Sanctum Two for two years, she longed for the experience to change him into someone who would love her and miss her while he was away – it seemed like it made him worse. She felt tears forming in her eyes, trying to maintain her composure.

"I love you," she whined. "Why do you keep doing this to me? You once said I was your favorite to have… we are always seeing each other… teaching or Devil's Night or Black Mass… I only had one child… YOUR FUCKING CHILD… I take good care of her… all these years I have… and you cannot even give me good word?"

He chuckled and crudely walked up to her, taking her by the waist and pulling her close to him with all of his strength; he almost got hard in his pants from the feeling of her breasts pressed against his clothed chest: "do you not know, my dear?"

"Know what?" Tears fell from her eyes.

"My body holds a heart that cannot love. It can only lust. It is driven to indulge in fleshly pleasures, just as our Father wants us to live." He smirked, and she swooned subconsciously, not letting it show. "Cecilia is indeed my favorite child, but don't think that because you had to raise her that we could ever be monogamous."

He let her go, and she had her answer: he did not love her. She knew this all along, but this took her over the edge. John walked away, and she effortlessly reached into her pocket and pulled out a Desert Eagle, conjured by one of her defining powers, aiming it down at his leg to prevent him from walking as she shot one loud bullet into his knee. He collapsed and screamed, too focused on the severe pain he felt to try and defend himself with his powers.

"What the…fuck… is…that thing?!" he said through gritted teeth, trying to bear the pain as he saw her deviously look down at him like the demon she was. Her eyes seemed to turn a solid black, and for a moment, it was like he could see her true form – ram's horns began to grow out of her head, her ears were pointy, and her tongue was long, like that of a serpent.

"Your end is nigh," she smiled, proceeding to shoot down at him nine more times, lodging bullets in his arm, his torso, and even one to penetrate one of the vital arteries in his neck. He was dead for yet a third time, and she crouched down to view the result of what she had done. Her emotional torment was over – she made one final shot to his face, making him unrecognizable before she left the suite, purposely keeping the door open and putting the gun back in her pocket.

Lydia found herself on the sofa in the royal suite, making it past the guards who asked her to identify herself. Elijah was true to his word in hiring guard androids from the Cooperative, the most state-of-the-art for combat and fighting if it meant they had to defend the royals from the fulfillment of the visions Cordelia told him about. She had to confess to Their Infernal Majesties what she had done. Melanie looked at her, and before she could say anything, she knew something was up.

"You killed John Vanderbilt," she said.

"If you want to execute me for it," Lydia offered, "be my guest."

Elijah shook his head: "we wouldn't want to. You've done us a service."

The redhead was confused: "really? How?"

"I wanted him dead since a prophetic dream I had last night," the King revealed. "He was in line for King because he was asked by my daughter to be her consort."

Lydia's skin almost crawled like a bunch of angry fire ants. She was sick to her stomach: "disgusting. I

had my suspicions about him with the Princess." She did not say any more because she didn't want her

getting into trouble with her parents.

"Suspicions?" Melanie asked.

"The way he looked at her…" She teared up. "I loved him, damn it! He hurt me too many times for me to let it continue! I would give my heart up for the taking for him…"

"I know that you loved him dearly, madly, deeply… just as I love my Queen," Elijah said, holding Melanie's hand. "John was a man who could not love anyone but himself. Love for him only existed for one night."

"I hate myself for ever allowing myself to love someone like him, when he hurt me every time he was with other women, or he was flirting," Lydia said with guilt. "I just want it to go away. My chest literally hurts that I had to kill him…"

Elijah, being the sensitive and overall understanding person that he was, stood up and walked so that he was standing right behind Lydia as she sat in the lounge chair across from the sofa. Melanie watched him keep a dignified manner, putting his hand comfortingly on their half-sister's shoulder. Lydia's blue eyes looked up at him, and she found comfort in his words.

"I feel your pain… it hurts me, too… I do not exactly know what it is like to have someone not return the love I had for them. I was struck fortunate when I met my Queen… but there must be someone in this sanctuary meant for you… or even in another sanctuary," he said, trying to comfort her.

He is like a woman, Melanie thought to herself as she watched her consort comfort their sister, he's got such profound emotional intelligence and sensitivity. Say, sending her to another sanctuary isn't that bad of an idea, with Cecilia.

"Do you think so?"

"Oh yes. I know so," Elijah said with a smile. "Monogamy may not be practiced as much as it was in the old world, but for those who do? They are special. Monogamy means giving of yourself to your love, sometimes blindly without question, but that is a chance you take. Someone like John did not understand love in its purest essence. Making love and sleeping with someone are two separate passions that are not merely different, but opposites. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for carnal pleasures but in the desire for shared sleep."

"That is… beautiful, Your Infernal Majesty," Lydia agreed, looking down at her knees.

"I may be a mediocre King at times, but I have always possessed a soft heart," he replied.

"Perhaps," Melanie said, standing up to assert some authority, "it is best that Lydia venture to another sanctuary to find that which she is missing."

Elijah smiled at his Queen and nodded: "it would be a great experience for you and Cecilia to see the world."

"Are you certain that is a good idea?" Lydia questioned. "My entire life has been based in Sanctum One." She sighed. "Is it an order?"

"Yes," Melanie said. "It is an order. Arrange to have your belongings packed by this Friday."

"What about the school?"

"Hunter and Axel could teach if they wish. Honestly, demonic spawn cannot be tamed, unfortunately, as we learned from the incident with Anathem and the rest of them," the Queen stated.

"And Cecilia is coming with me?"

"Yes, along with two Cooperative androids. The same sort that guard this very suite."

Lydia nodded, demure to the command of her Queen: "yes, Your Infernal Majesty."

Desdemona finally got around to sitting down with the recording device she had taken from the Cooperative branch during the studies-gone-wrong on demonic spawn. She turned on the touch screen and fiddled with it a bit until she found the folder with all of the interviews, hers included. She knew her own identification number, HIH_DESLAN52327, as well as Anathem's, but his was the focus of her search. Once she found the first interview, she made sure it was as low as she could hear it and put the speaker to her ear, listening to the dialogue shared between Isla and her brother.

"First one. Do you think it is ever okay to bear false witness or lie?"

"Only if it's needed. Not like Dessi, though. She lies so much, her tongue is loose. Our parents like her more than me. It's disgusting. I'm going to be King." There was a pause, and Desdemona quietly rolled her eyes. "Except if someone like you lies to us royals, you will face harsh consequences."

"Next question. What does morality mean to you?"

"Nothing. It's bullshit, one of the many lies and hypocrisies of the old world. Morality, as a concept, was intended to keep humans in their place." Desdemona nodded in agreement, continuing to hear what was said.

"Agreed. Next is, if you see someone in need of food or shelter, is it your obligation to help them?"

"Fuck no! If I had it my way, I'd make their heart the first human heart I eat. It is their obligation to serve me in that way, as their sovereign." Desdemona shook her head and spoke to herself: "he's out of his mind. No one is homeless or hungry in Regnum Infernale."

"What is your opinion on suicide?"

"Let them do it," she heard him say callously in the recording.

"And if they want you to help them take their life?" she heard Isla question.

"That's even more pitiful." There was a disturbing laugh after this statement. "I wouldn't. I'd let them suffer all the more until they gave in to their petty feelings."

"I see. If you were to deliberately sabotage a piece of machinery so that the next person who uses it is severely injured, would you be responsible for those injuries?"

"No. You check the fucking thing first before you use it. Humans are such idiots." Desdemona rolled her eyes again: "you're the idiot, Anathem. Humans are not powerful enough to predetermine things."

Desdemona kept listening, but it was not long until Isla asked a pressing question, and Anathem's answer disturbed her deeply. Desdemona, being a pureblooded demon, was not easily disturbed but what she heard was heinous.

"What is humanity's ultimate goal?"

"Are you seriously asking me? The ultimate goal of humanity is to die off and let our race take over."

"Is that what you really think?" Isla asked on the recording.

"That or they will interbreed with our race, and die off that way. There will be no more pure humans left, anywhere. Uncle John is doing a killer job with that process. Human women feel gnawing pain and bleed to death giving birth to spawn. I just wish my fucking sister would stop sensing their deaths and bringing them back!"

That was the end of the recording, but she was curious enough to listen to the next interview, regarding powers and abilities. She was shaking wildly with anticipation, scrolling and tapping on the touch screen on his identification number and where it said ABILITIES. She listened in, taking the speaker to her ear once more.

"What is the most profound ability you have displayed? Reminder that we are using the classical Seven Wonders as a model for classifying abilities." Isla's first question was met by a sarcastic response.

"This is bullshit… the Seven Wonders. What a way to limit our capabilities." There was a pause. "I can move things with my mind, telekinesis. I can move place to place without actually occupying the space between, transmutation. I do use that one a lot."

"What else, Anathem?"

"I can make people submit to my will. Concilium, I think it's called. I can set fires with my mind, pyrokinesis. I also know things, and can sense things. I think that's divination."

"I see." There was a pause on Isla's part. "Can you tell me if you possess anything beyond the Seven Wonders? For example, I have clairvoyance. That is not one of them."

"I don't have that, but I can do one thing, you see." Desdemona heard him clear his throat before he continued. "I had this one guy, I actually kind of liked him. I wanted to fuck him. So, we go to his shithole of a suite like most of the peasants in this damn kingdom dwell in, and just as I take my pants down and let my dick out, he tells me…" She heard Anathem speak with a mocking voice, "'Your Infernal Highness, I don't think I can do this'. So, I said, 'what do you mean'. The bastard is like 'I am just not feeling it, my deepest apologies.' Huh!" Anathem's tone turned to one of anger. "How DARE that fucker waste MY time! He should be kissing my shoes because I gave him the time of day!" There was a pause, and Desdemona cringed. "Oh, Aunt Isla… can you keep a secret for me?"

"That's what I do best, Anathem. May I ask, does it involve-"

She was cut off by a shrill yell from Anathem. "No! Keep my fucking parents out of this!"

"Okay… I will… but tell me what happened with him."

"I did more than set Mr. Reject on fire. I could not detect his life force when I was done with him. Let me tell you, the look of suffering and agony on his face was enough to get me off. He ceased to exist, Aunt Isla. BEYOND DEAD. My sister, nor my parents, know I can do that. I can only imagine how disloyal that guy would have been to me the event I became his King."

Desdemona felt her heart shaking in her chest. Her own brother was hiding an egregious power right under all of their noses. She was shocked that her father and mother could not detect that he had the power of destroying souls. She wondered why, but then she listened to him speak in the recording even more.

"My father is not only a King but a Supreme. Give me a fucking break, why don't you. He's a sad excuse for a man, worships the cow that is my mother than our Father, Satan. When he gets mad, he subdues me. I HATE being subdued. That man has got so much emotional bullshit inside him that he has to take it out on me for the STUPIDEST reasons, like when Dessi died recently. Uncle John put me under something, but I can't remember much except for the fact that my father almost used physical force on me. Of course, Mommy Dearest didn't punish me. I didn't do anything wrong, though."

"Can you tell me why you wish for this to be a secret?" Isla asked in the recording.

"In case any of them decide to turn against me, I can take them by surprise," she heard Anathem say, making her heart sink.

She knew how gravely serious this was, to know that her brother was so demented and callous, and even deceitful with hiding his soul destruction power from his own family for a twisted purpose in the event it was to happen. She knew she needed to take this to her parents as soon as possible. However, this was not an easy feat – the following day, there was a Cooperative meeting regarding the death of Isla and the instilment of a new decree stating that demonic spawn are never to be experimented on again under the pretense that demon spawn can be "provoked to anger". Also, they had gotten a hold of a copy of the checklist Isla planned to complete with the different research types – Melanie was horrified to know that this endeavor was practically suicide for Isla, especially with the Princess and Prince as subjects. It was a time-honored law at this point that any bodily harm done to a royal resulted in death, and it didn't even matter if the royal member died and could be brought back; it was the intent to kill, maim or cause harm that mattered.

So, she resorted to waiting until very late at night to break the news to her parents. Desdemona hated waking her parents up, but she needed to in order to get this information to them as soon as she could. She went to her mother and tapped her shoulder, and she trudgingly opened her eyes to see her daughter there. Elijah followed suit, sitting up and pyrokinetically lighting the candles on the bedside tables.

"Yes, Dessi. Are you alright?" Melanie asked.

"I hate to wake you but… we need to talk. It's very serious," Desdemona said gravely. "It's… about Anathem."

She knows, Elijah thought. "What about him?"

Desdemona held up the recording device and looked at her weary mother and father: "I have evidence that he is a danger to not only this family, but the throne and the kingdom as a whole."

"Where'd you get that?" Melanie asked, taking it from her.

"I stole it when the chaos went down during the study," the Princess said. "Look for his identification number under the second interview, not the first on the list."

Melanie wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked down at the lit touch screen, tapping on Anathem's number and listening to the interview about his abilities. She heard Isla asking about them, and the Prince described what he was able to do in his life. When asked if he could do anything beyond the Seven Wonders' classification, that was where it began that they listened attentively. He described the anecdote of a planned homosexual liaison with a subject, who changed his mind as they were getting busy. They heard the anger in their son's voice in the recording, and then the part where he asked Isla to keep the secret and to not mention his parents in relation to it. Elijah looked at his Queen, the expression on it as he described what he did to the poor guy – it was soul destruction, and she shook her head with disbelief at the fact that Anathem knew full well what he was doing when he decided to keep it secret. Elijah, however, got angry when he heard Anathem talking smack about he and his Queen. The line, "he's a sad excuse for a man, worships the cow that is my mother more than our Father, Satan," got his blood boiling – even though it was his own son, how dare he speak about his beloved Queen in such a vile fashion? Melanie was more taken aback at why he kept it a secret, her face blanching as she listened to, "in case any of them decide to turn against me, I can take them by surprise."

"Disinherited!" Melanie seethed quietly as she turned off the device, looking to her King. "Did you know about this?"

"No, I did not."

"My father was able to do that," the Queen said gravely. "Now, Anathem can. How dare he keep that from us?"

"What are you going to do to him?" Desdemona asked worriedly. "A-Are you going to kill him?"

Elijah shook his head, uncertain of how to answer her: "I don't know, Dessi. He is much too dangerous to be kept alive, but if we try to kill him, we may die trying."

"The… witches in your dreams… they were right. Please accept my apologies for thinking you'd gone mad," Melanie said to Elijah.

"No worries. I do not blame you. Maybe… if I go back to sleep, they will help me. Maybe with that identity spell," the King said.

Melanie suddenly got a mental hold of her daughter's thoughts, clear as day: Uncle John was right, I am destined to be a Queen. Wait… where is he? At that moment, she sighed and looked to Elijah, who immediately got a sense of what was up. They both looked at her and spoke the truth about what happened to John.

"Desdemona." Melanie sounded grave. "John is…"

The girl naively looked on at her mother, her feline eyes widening: "what, Mother?" She paused. "I hope he's okay. I want to tell him he was correct, if this was the course of events he was seeing when-"

"He was killed, Dessi," Elijah said without holding back.

Her eyes widened, tears filling her eyes. She could not believe it, and her voice spoke with such rapid fire she could barely be understood: "what?! What do you mean? Why? Who did it? Where is his body? I'll bring him back!"

"He was cremated this morning," the Queen told her.

"But who did it? Who killed him?" Desdemona asked distressingly.

"Aunt Lydia," Elijah said.

"But why?"

"It's not something you could understand," Elijah said.

"I may be young, but I am not an idiot," Desdemona said rather harshly, still in her hushed tone.

Melanie simply took her daughter's face in her hands and spoke intently, looking into her eyes: "satis, hold your tongue."

Her daughter was struck silent, and she could not negate it because her mother moved so fast in bending her will. She seemed to forget about what was told to her about John Vanderbilt. Meanwhile, just outside the door and down the hallway, Anathem was sitting up in his bed, his eyes rolled back into his skull. His hands were clutching his bedspread, and his long, light brown hair was tangled and framed his face. Any normal person with sense would suspect he was under sleep paralysis, but really, he could see and hear everything that went on from the minute Desdemona walked into their sleeping parents' bedroom to tell them about what he had said and hidden from them. When he got out of the deep state of consciousness, he felt his blood boiling – how dare his own family conspire against him? He knew he had to get rid of them, and be smart in doing so.

A/N:

Things are starting to heat up… all I can say.

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