TW: Mentions of abuse


Chapter 16: Deadly Nightshade

It had been months since Blumiere met Timpani for the first time. After he returned home, he planned on seeing her again just once more to thank her for saving his life. Instead, that one meeting turned into weekly meetings, which then turned into a nightly occurrence. Somewhere along the way, Blumiere fell in love with her...and miraculously, against all odds, Timpani felt the same.

However, there was a rift there. As well as the two got along, Blumiere and Timpani still disagreed heavily on one issue: the Dark Prognosticus. When the former mentioned that the Tribe of Darkness followed its teachings once, Timpani was horrified. "What? B-But...that book brings sorrow to all who wield it!"

Blumiere knew that, as a human being, she had been taught lies about its stories. So, he began telling her about the history of his tribe. They were once a small group in the Tribe of Ancients, but the old leaders were abusing the Dark Prognosticus' power. The book was filled with visions of the future, but also deadly secrets that drove some tribesmen mad and power-hungry. In order to protect their kind, a small group of dark magic-users took the Dark Prognosticus and left the Tribe of Ancients, forming what was now known as the Tribe of Darkness.

As such, only direct descendents of the group could interpret the book correctly and use its prophecies well. The tribe's first chieftain, who had the idea to form the Tribe of Darkness, was considered the most devout and pure, so he had ruled the tribe. When he grew too old, his son took over. This continued for the next 2,000 years, the leading family changing every few generations. At the moment, the leading family was the Nightshades, which meant Blumiere's parents, himself, and his three younger siblings: Erik, Benjamin, and Roselyn.

He tried to get Timpani to understand, but after a while, she grew tense and immediately asked to change the subject. There was an uncharacteristic irritation in her voice, tenseness in her body, and skepticism across her features. Blumiere couldn't understand it. Finally, he broke down and asked her. "Timpani, why do you always get upset whenever I mention my Tribe's beliefs?"

Timpani frowned. "The Dark Prognosticus, you mean?" He nodded and she sighed. "Blumiere, I don't want to come in between you and your family. You all love each other so much."

"That may be so, but I don't understand why you disagree with us so vehemently."

Timpani sighed, her shoulders dropping. "Promise you won't get mad?"

Blumiere took Timpani's hands and looked her straight in the eye. "I promise."

She hesitated. "It's because your doctrines make no sense."

His eyes widened. "What do you mean? They make perfect sense."

The human frowned. She stood and stretched for a while before walking down the hill and pacing in the field around their tree. That was how he knew that she was thinking hard, trying to work something out in her brain.

Blumiere stared for a few seconds before joining her. She continued to pace. "I mean, think about it! You said your ancestors left the Tribe of Ancients to protect people from the Dark Prognosticus! Right?"

"Right?"

Timpani stopped walking and turned to Blumiere, eyes full of doubt and confusion. "And you said that the prophecies in the book are destructive. Enough to drive perfectly sane people mad. Right?"

Blumiere nodded. He still didn't understand where Timpani was going with this.

Her eyes narrowed. In a low voice, she asked, "Then why is your Tribe following the Dark Prognosticus, Blumiere?"

The man's eyes widened and he stepped back in shock. He had never thought of that. Never, in all of his years in the Tribe. He didn't know what to say.

But she kept going. "And what makes the Nightshade family or anyone else in the Tribe more able to interpret the Dark Prognosticus than any human!? Is it because they can use magic? Because they're wealthy!?" She gave a bitter, brief laugh. "Well, that makes up for everything, doesn't it!?"

"Timpani…"

"What makes them sacred and pure and free from corruption? You told me your father reads that book all the time, yet he beats his wife and children! Is that not corrupt!? Is that not sick and wrong!?" Timpani shouted. She began crying, hot tears sliding down her cheeks. Through her sobs, she asked, "What kind of a monster would treat people that way!? Their own family!"

With that, she crumbled. The human began sobbing, holding her knees and shaking. Blumiere sat next to her and held her close. The blue-skinned man rubbed her back and spoke to her softly. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Timpani. And as for your concerns, you're right. The Tribe's doctrines are…" Blumiere felt a lump in his throat, like mounds of cotton. He wasn't able to say they were wrong. He swallowed hard and started over. "The Tribe's doctrines are...questionable."

Timpani looked up with puffy, red eyes. "It's just that...I love you so much, Blumiere."

"I love you too, Timpani."


The previous day

Count Bleck stared at his teacup. He held the cup close and felt a strong warmth pulse through his hand, but he still felt cold inside. He couldn't stop thinking about the past for whatever reason, though he had done fairly well at keeping it together before.

"It must have something to do with the hero's butterfly Pixl," Count Bleck thought. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a strong urge to check in on Sammer's Kingdom, the next place that the Void would consume. That was when he ran into her, denouncing his plan right in front of him. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Nevertheless, her opinion changed little on the matter.

He thought he would return to the castle refreshed with more motivation to carry out the role the Dark Prognosticus had written for him. Instead, he felt the opposite effect: tired, unmotivated, and full of questions...just as he had been many years ago with her.

In the Tribe of Darkness, the man known as Blumiere was raised to be the next leader of the group. As such, he grew up with many privileges: a private education, the best resources, and strong ties with each member of his family. Even his cruel father had moments of kindness. When Blumiere was a small child, his father would tell him of the good future the Dark Prognosticus had in store for him: "You will be a powerful leader. Strong warriors will bow before you and brave heroes will fight in your name."

Then he met her. According to his father, humans were evil, selfish beings, responsible for the corruption of the Tribe of Ancients. But she, the human who saved his life, was a contradiction against everything Blumiere had ever known. As they spent more time together, he began to wonder: if the Tribe was wrong about humans, what else were they wrong about?

Once she disappeared, Blumiere searched and searched for her, but he never found her. There was only one other choice: claim his role in the Dark Prognosticus and destroy all worlds. The first dimension that the dark book claimed had been the one where Blumiere was born and raised: every member of the Tribe, every brick of the castle, every village home...obliterated with the chant of the forbidden prophecy. Gone forever.

Of course, Count Bleck hated that destroying his home dimension also meant destroying them. And if he thought too hard about it, his heart would ache with the sick, suffocating sadness of losing his family forever. But it was just as his father told him: all of their fates were sealed in the Dark Prognosticus.

And Count Bleck's fate was to destroy.

"You seem lonely," A familiar voice commented.

Count Bleck flinched, but relaxed when he saw who it was. "Oh, Nastasia! You startled the Count."

The assistant gave a small, rare smile. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'm fine. Just...lost in thought, I suppose."

Nastasia's smile faltered, then faded. She sighed and sat down next to him. "You're using the first-person…"

"Right. Thank you for reminding the Count."

She looked at him. "Slip of the tongue?"

Count Bleck nodded. When he began using third-person, he had trouble staying consistent with his pronoun usage at first. He would say that phrase whenever he made a mistake. It was an accident. A slip of the tongue. Soon, Nastasia began saying it too.

She must have accepted this answer because she looked away and clasped her hands. She became very still, staring into the distance with a far-off look in her eyes.

"Nastasia?"

She turned. "Yes?"

The blue-skinned man frowned and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Is there something on your mind?"

Nastasia sighed and looked straight ahead, not rejecting his touch, but not embracing it either. "Something bad happened this morning."

"Something bad?" Count Bleck asked. He sighed. "Alright, then. Out with it. What happened, asked the Count?"

Nastasia peered at the ground. "Dimentio...He, um…" She cut herself off, peering into the kitchen. Count Bleck looked in the same direction and noticed servants wiping the counters, sweeping, and organizing the spice rack.

She turned back to him. "Actually, do you mind if we discuss this in private?"

"Very well." He took the last sip of his tea before standing and handing the cup to a servant for them to wash. After leaving the kitchen with Nastasia, he asked, "You wish to speak in the meeting room, I presume?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but uh...can we go the long way?"

The leader agreed and the pair walked down to the meeting room. On the way, Count Bleck thought of his relationship with Nastasia and how much they had been through together. Back when he was still searching for her, he found a frail bat in a cage, whimpering quietly into the night. Count Bleck may have been losing his heart, but he still respected other living creatures at the time, so he freed her.

He was not expecting that same bat to come back as a young woman named Nastasia, and he certainly had not been expecting her to stay with him. No matter how often he tried to convince her to leave, she would always remain at his side. It was infuriating and yet...warm, having someone who cared for him that much. Still, he felt for her: by binding herself to him, Nastasia doomed herself to a life of misery.

They arrived at the meeting room. As soon as they settled in, Nastasia let him know what was on her mind. After straightening her glasses, she said, "Yeah, so we just got a quick ping from Dimentio? We've had a little insubordination...Yeah, according to his report, our Mr. L took on a hero fighting initiative."

Count Bleck froze. He thought of the man in green and felt a dull ache inside of him. Mr. L was in over his head, but he was also so eager and enthusiastic. So innocent, in a way. Nastasia went on: "I accept full responsibility. It was my administrative breakdown that allowed this…"

He thought for a moment. As much as he had grown fond of Mr. L, he knew that his presence in itself was dangerous. He brought out a side of the Count that he had thought was gone forever. He remembered how he had talked with him in his private study that night, when he instructed him and Dimentio to keep each other safe. He thought of the way he brought up the abuse in his old life, even if it was painful. He also did not realize it until later that night, but he had used first-person pronouns the whole time. He had simply grown too attached to the man in green. Perhaps it was for the best that he was gone.

Keeping this in mind, Count Bleck turned numb inside and spoke quietly. "I see, remarked Count Bleck. Well, what is done is done. This prophecy will not be fulfilled without sacrifice…"

Nastasia looked down at her platform. "So, 'kay...Um, and just another quick update on Mimi. Yeah...She, um...Also left the castle."

The leader turned to her. "Did she now? Well, Count Bleck will leave you to dispense the minion discipline."

The assistant looked up, apprehensive. "Count...Um, you seem...a bit different today. New monocle? Or did something happen?"

For a moment, he wanted to tell his closest confidante about what he saw with the heroes. Then, he realized that he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't tell her that he snuck out on a whim nor the fact that he was thinking about her again. "Count Bleck feels fine...leave me."

His assistant tilted her glasses and straightened up. "Oh, um, of course, yeah. Please excuse me." With a respectful bow, Nastasia left the room.

Once he was alone, the blue-skinned man tipped his hat over his eyes. Just like that night several years ago, the questions began to run through his mind. He thought of that butterfly Pixl's arguments and the value she placed onto each living creature. It reminded him of someone he once knew.

"Could that Pixl have been...Timpani?" Count Bleck asked out loud. He considered the notion before shaking his head. "No, no. Completely impossible. I should know that better than anyone. Besides, it's far too late to do anything now. The prophecy has been set in motion and no one, not even I, can stop it. No one can stop this now…"


Of course, Count Bleck didn't intend to keep to himself all day. As sorrowful as he felt, he still had the other minions to attend to. He decided to check on each of them. He thought of speaking with Dimentio first, as he was definitely the closest to Mr. L, but instead, he passed by Mimi's bedroom first. Nastasia's voice was muffled behind the closed door. "Listen, about your insubordination-"

"I don't wanna hear it!" Mimi cried. "Just go away!"

Count Bleck stopped. He was never one for eavesdropping, but his curiosity got the better of him. What punishment had Nastasia chosen for her?

The assistant went on. "You don't understand. I'm not here to shame you."

"Oh, sure you aren't! Why else would you come here!?"

There was a moment of silence. "That's what I thought," The spider said. She chuckled, sounding more broken than anything. "It's always been easy for you, hasn't it? You're little Miss Perfect, always at the Count's beck and call! Better yet, he actually likes you and tells you what's on his mind...instead of pulling this bullshit like he did for the rest of us!" Count Bleck winced. His parents never liked foul language and he supposed that trait carried on to him.

"It's not as easy as you might think," Nastasia said. "He doesn't open up to me all the time either."

"Oh, Grambi. Just get out already!"

"But-"

"JUST GO!"

"Mimi, I miss him too!"

There was another moment of silence. This one was not uncomfortable, but solemn and quiet. Finally, Nastasia sighed. "Just please pick up your room, 'kay?"

"Why?" Mimi growled.

"It's your punishment...for your insubordination."

He heard her footsteps approach the door. Count Bleck didn't think to move until it was too late. Suddenly, Nastasia opened the door and stepped out, shutting the door behind her. She almost ran into the Count before stepping back, surprised. Then she sighed and walked past him. Count Bleck hesitated before knocking on the door.

"GO AWAY!"

He sighed and decided to walk in anyway; he had to make sure Mimi was alright. When he stepped in, he couldn't believe his eyes. There were cobwebs covering nearly every corner of the room. The blankets on the bed were messy and disheveled. There were clothes on the floor, both dirty and clean. There was even a knocked-down trashcan and a small pile of waste on the floor, a half-eaten bird carcass somewhere in the mess.

Mimi sobbed in a corner of the room, holding her knees close. She seemed so small and fragile in her black dress. He approached her quietly. "Mimi…"

The girl looked up and gasped. "Count!" She stood and dusted off her dress. "Oh Grambi. I'm sorry! How much of that did you hear!?"

"I heard enough," He replied. Mimi's eyes widened and he realized his mistake. "Said the Count."

Mimi sighed. "What's my added punishment?"

The leader frowned. He looked around the room and noticed a broom and dustpan by the door. He went to the broom and took it, examining its wooden handle. "Why do you have a broom in here, Mimi?"

The girl joined his side. "Oh, um...Nassy left that here. For me to clean."

"Count Bleck sees." He thought for a moment, examining the room, before turning back to face her. "Alright, here is what the Count proposes. He will dust the cobwebs and dispose of the waste there. Will you please make your bed and put away those clothes, asked the Count?"

The spider blinked before nodding. The two spent some time cleaning the room together. They worked in a comfortable silence without a lot of talking or silly jokes. This was a strange task for the Count to carry out, as he was accustomed to servants and maids cleaning after him, but at least it got his mind off of things for a while. Once they were done, Mimi whispered, "Thanks, Count."

"It is no trouble. Return to your duties, Mimi," He said, turning towards the door.

"Count?"

He turned. "Yes?"

"Why'd you help me?"

"Well, the Count saw you struggling, so he provided assistance. It was only the right thing to do."

Mimi peered at the ground. "Oh...Okay…"

He sighed. "And Count Bleck knows that you were in love with Mr. L."

The spider's eyes widened. She looked up, blushing. "W-Was it that obvious!?"

He chuckled. "Bleh heh. Mimi, my dear, you are not exactly discreet when you take interest in someone."

Mimi froze. "So...You knew about, um…" Her voice grew small when she said the next part. "...The thing I had for you?"

Count Bleck didn't hesitate. "Yes."

The girl groaned and covered her face. "Oh, Grambi...That was so embarrassing…"

The man shook his head. "No, it is alright. The Count found your infatuation for him rather...charming."

She removed her hands from her face, managing a small smile. "But I'm over you, so it's okay!" She sighed. "I just miss him, Count…"

"It is normal to feel that way. After all, you've just lost someone close to you."

"Right…" Mimi was silent for a while before looking at Count Bleck, tears in her eyes. She sniffled before running up and hugging him. Tightening her hold on him, she added, "Thank you."

Count Bleck hesitated before pulling the girl closer to him. "It was no trouble at all, my dear…"


After comforting Mimi, Count Bleck searched for Dimentio, but he couldn't seem to find him. He decided he would speak with him later. Instead, he went to the private workout room, knowing that a certain minion would be there. He opened the door and peered inside. "O'Chunks?"

The Scotsman looked up. He was sitting on a bench at the moment, sweat dripping down the side of his face. He was dabbing his forehead with a white washcloth. "Oh. 'Ello there, Count."

Count Bleck sat next to him. He sighed, opting to use first person for now. "I was just checking in on everyone. I'm sure you've heard about what happened to Mr. L by now."

O'Chunks nodded. "Yes, Count." He sighed. "It's awful, innit it? That lad had an ego alright, but I still miss 'im…"

Count Bleck frowned. "O'Chunks-"

"Not to mention that when he was 'ere, I told 'im he was pathetic...and confused..." He swallowed hard. "And just when things were startin' teh look up, those wretched heroes end 'is game…"

Count Bleck sighed. In the early days of Mr. L and Dimentio's courtship, O'Chunks was always there to rant to the Count about how wrong it was. This bothered the leader for a while. After all, if anyone understood what it was like to love someone and have the world reject you for it, then it was Count Bleck. However, he also knew that if she had simply screamed at him that the Tribe's doctrines were evil and made no arguments of her own, it would have been difficult for the Count to believe otherwise.

So, he began asking about O'Chunks' views without judgement before challenging them with questions of his own. Soon, the Scotsman became quiet about it, then remorseful for his actions. He even tried to apologize once or twice, but both Mr. L and Dimentio refused to listen when they were still seeing each other. Now, there would be no chance to make amends.

"Well...you mentioned once that he had began speaking to you again. Perhaps he already forgave you," Count Bleck offered.

"Perhaps…" O'Chunks whispered. He turned to the Count with a faint smile. "Anyway...did yeh like the song I wrote fer yeh?"

The Count winced. He knew which song he was referring to; he sang it so loudly that he broke a few windows and gave everyone headaches. "Y-Yes...It had quite a nice ring to it."

"Hmm…" The warrior paused for a moment. "Count, ye know that teh lass loves yeh, right?"

Count Bleck frowned. "If you're referring to Nastasia, then yes. I do."

"Then why haven't ye said anythin' teh her 'bout it?"

He sighed. "O'Chunks, she already knows that I don't reciprocate."

"Yeh sure 'bout that? She follows yeh around all day and cancels plans teh spend time with yeh…"

The blue-skinned man blinked. "Cancels plans?"

O'Chunks nodded. "A number of weeks ago, I asked teh lass te eat dinner with meh at one of me favorite pubs in town...She said yes."

He grinned. "Oh, O'Chunks! That's wonderful-"

"Ye didn't let me finish." He sighed. "She said yes, but when teh day came, she canceled. Said she had te rally teh troops and stomp out any sign o' rebellion. Then Mr. L came."

Count Bleck froze. "...What does Mr. L have to do with that equation?"

The warrior peered up at him, confused. "Nothin'. Just thought I'd mention it."

The leader let out a sigh of relief before thinking back to the situation O'Chunks had described. "She didn't cancel at the last minute, did she?"

"N-No...She gave meh a number o' hours in advance. I was just lookin' forward teh it, ye know?"

Count Bleck frowned. "I don't think that Nastasia knows how you feel, O'Chunks."

"Prob'ly not." He turned to the other man, wearing a small grin. "Eh...This talk must be borin' yeh. Ye don't seem te be one fer romance…"

The leader frowned and muttered, "You'd be surprised."

The Scotsman stood and dusted himself off. "Well...That don't matter anyways. I'll have plenty o' time te talk with her in teh New World, right?"

"Yes. I suppose you will."

With that, Count Bleck stood and began to leave the room. "Wait! Count!" O'Chunks called out. He turned back and the minion gave a hasty salute. "Hail Bleck!"

Count Bleck frowned, tipping his hat forward. "Hail bleck indeed…"


Count Bleck didn't know what he would say to Dimentio. After all, the magician was the one who was the closest to Mr. L. He was the one who had to report his death to Nastasia. The blue-skinned man had to say something to him. Yet at the same time, there was someone that the Count was still grieving. Someone he could not forget, even if he wanted to. Even after all of this time, the pain was still there and he didn't know how to deal with it. What was he supposed to say to Dimentio, who would have this same problem soon?

Fortunately, around dinnertime, Dimentio informed him that he had to finish an assignment for Nastasia and requested to eat alone. Count Bleck approved of this request and let him do as he pleased. However, after he and the minions sat at the table, his curiosity got the better of him. "Nastasia, what did Dimentio do to have to write another essay?"

As soon as he asked that question, the atmosphere grew tense. Nastasia frowned. "Well...he pushed Mimi down the stairs, for one."

Count Bleck's eyes widened. "What!? On purpose, exclaimed the Count?"

"Aye," O'Chunks said. "I saw it with me own eyes. He was shoutin' at her and-"

"Stop it," Mimi whispered. She shrunk in her seat, a dark look in her eyes. "Stop talking about me…"

"I'm not, lass. I'm talking about what he did."

She was silent before turning to her master. "Count, do you think I'm ugly?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Why would you ask that, Mimi?"

The girl frowned. "Dimentio called me a filthy little spider…"

Count Bleck narrowed his eyes. He would have to speak with Dimentio about something else, it seemed. "That is not true. You know that is not true."

The girl was silent for a few seconds before bursting into tears. O'Chunks rubbed her back and gave her gentle words. Mimi leaned into him and sobbed. He held her close and continued to comfort her.

Count Bleck felt a rush of guilt. How could he have let this happen? Turning to his secretary, he asked, "What else did he do, Nastasia? Anything?"

She shook her head. "No, not that I know of…"

That was when O'Chunks spoke up again. "Actually, he, um...made some personal jabs at meh. But nothin' I couldn't handle… "

"What did he say to you?"

O'Chunks glanced at Nastasia before peering down at his plate. "It be nothin', Count…"

Count Bleck sighed. He must have said something about O'Chunks' infatuation for Nastasia. He turned to her. "And I...erm...the Count supposes that you have already administered proper punishment?"

She nodded. "That's right. I assigned a 2,000-page report for tomorrow."

Count Bleck's eyes widened. "Nastasia! One day to write 2,000 pages!?"

The secretary lowered her head. "Maybe that was a little extreme…"

The blue-skinned man sighed. He was used to Dimentio causing trouble, but not like this. "Do not worry, minions. The Count will speak with Dimentio as soon as he can." The others nodded to show their acknowledgement.

"Want me to take back that assignment?" Nastasia asked.

He shook his head. "That won't be necessary. If the Count knows Dimentio like he thinks he does, then he will not write a single word."

"'Kay, Count."

Needless to say, the rest of dinner was tense and uncomfortable. Count Bleck knew that he still had some prophecies to decode in the Dark Prognosticus, so he wouldn't be able to speak with Dimentio that night. Even so, he would get an explanation for all of this.


Around 7:30 the next morning, Count Bleck knocked on Dimentio's door and waited. There was a moment of silence before the latter responded. "Come in!" He opened the door and stepped inside. The jester's eyes widened, but he recovered fast, his usual smile creeping back. "Ahh, Count Bleck!"

The Count stepped further inside and shut the door behind him. Dimentio gestured to the multiple stacks of paper on his desk. "I gave Nastasia that essay this morning. Written by me and only me!" His smile grew. "However, I made a copy just for you! Would you like one?"

Count Bleck took a few pages off of the top of the pile and skimmed it. Nastasia had to get creative with her punishments since he forbade corporal punishment in his court. That was where these long essays came in. Most were short, but there were a few that dragged on and on. The longest essay she had ever assigned was for O'Chunks: 1,000 pages for losing to the hero. However, while that essay was full of spelling mistakes, messy sentence structure, and half-baked ideas, this essay was the polar opposite. The first few pages had many finely-crafted sentences, beautiful prose, and it was all neatly organized.

Count Bleck put the paper down and stared at the jester in disbelief. It was possible to summon this many pages with magic, but even the Count knew that that would take a lot of energy in of itself. And even if he had taken that route, the essay had no right to be written this well. How had Dimentio done it?

Instead of providing answers, the jester said, "It has been quite awhile since we've talked one-on-one! How are you, my Count?"

The leader frowned and set the papers back on the desk; the quality of the essay was besides the point. "Dimentio, none of that small talk. Let us get straight to the point. Why are you harassing Count Bleck's minions?"

The jester stepped back. "Harassing them!? No, you misunderstand! I pushed Mimi down the stairs by accident, but you won't hear that from Nastasia! As for O'Chunks, I simply told him the truth! That's all!"

Count Bleck sighed. "Well, unlike Nastasia, Count Bleck understands that punishment will not work with you. As a result, he asks that you stay out of his way. He understands that you are mourning Mr. L, but so are the rest of his minions."

Suddenly, Dimentio glared. It was rare for him to express any emotion other than joy, so this startled Count Bleck, though he did not show it. "You call that mourning!?" The magician asked. "They're acting the same as they always do!"

Count Bleck thought of Nastasia, anxious and uncertain. He thought of Mimi, who needed his help to do something as simple as clean her room. And he thought of O'Chunks, worn out and barely clinging to optimism. If Dimentio thought they were acting the same as usual, then he did not know his fellow minions at all.

"No, they are not," The leader said. "If you had actually made an effort to speak with them instead of acting out of line, you would see differently." He peered at the floor, tipping his hat over his eyes. He thought of her and memories of her kindness and grace overwhelmed him. "Besides, the Count warned you about this. He told you to protect the man in green with your very life, yet you failed to do so. Now, you shall never see him again. You might as well accept that."

The jester began trembling. He spoke with a cold edge in his voice. "You had a soulmate of your own...You know how much it hurts to lose them. Why are you telling me to accept this!?"

Count Bleck frowned. Dimentio knew about her long before that night in his private study; he found out somehow around the time he first came here. That was why the Count had no qualms about mentioning her to Mr. L. Still, that didn't mean Dimentio had the right to bring her up so casually. This wasn't even about her. "First of all, Count Bleck thought we agreed when you first came not to speak of the other's past. Second, you are not even supposed to know about her, so the Count does not want to hear about her in his presence."

Dimentio grinned. "I see…" His grin widened and the Count knew he made a mistake. "Timpani, Timpani, Timpani, Timpani, Tim-"

"DIMENTIO!" He shouted. The jester flinched. Count Bleck took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. "You are walking on very thin ice. In fact, were it not for the Dark Prognosticus, I would send you on your way right here and now."

The magician stared before a faint smile returned. "Oh, Count!~" He sang. "You're using first-person pronouns!" His eyes widened. Count Bleck turned away, cheeks growing hot. Of course he had to make that mistake now.

Dimentio's smile grew. "Slip of the tongue?"

Count Bleck froze. That was the same phrase Nastasia had used whenever he slipped up. Except when she said it, she meant it as a calm, gentle reminder that it was alright to make mistakes occasionally. Dimentio only said that to make him feel worse.

His face burned, but the magician didn't seem to care. Dimentio just kept laughing. "You're such an enigma, Count!" Once he was done, he added, "Or maybe not. You're just like the rest of the Tribe of Darkness. No, better yet...a Nightshade. Through and through!"

That was like a stab to the gut. Count Bleck knew that his former family had been dysfunctional. They were just like the Nightshade plant itself: beautiful and innocent on the outside, but poisonous on the inside. Even so, he had the urge to defend his family and tribe. He knew how Blumiere would have went about it. "What do you know about my family!? Did you grow up there? Do you know the first thing about any of them!?"

But Count Bleck was not Blumiere. Not anymore.

So, he cleared his throat and tipped his hat again, hiding his face. He would not get angry. He would not yell. That was what Dimentio wanted. Instead, he spoke in the calmest tone he could muster. "Well, Dimentio, no matter how hard you try to enrage Count Bleck, it matters not. The Void is growing larger by the day. Sooner or later, this world will end. As for the Nightshade family, Count Bleck is no longer a part of them. He has no family. Count Bleck is the Champion of Destruction, the annihilator of worlds. The Dark Prognosticus' humble servant. Nothing more and nothing less."

The jester frowned. "I see...well, then it looks like we're done here."

"Count Bleck could not agree more." He turned back to the stacks of paper. "As for your essay, at least from the few pages I've looked over…" He allowed magic energy to course through him, hot and aggressive, before snapping his fingers. He lit the whole stack on fire, blue flame scorching everything. Soon enough, though, it vanished without a trace. "It's impeccable. You're a gifted writer, Dimentio."

The jester blinked. "Thank you so much, my-"

Count Bleck turned and left the room without another word, dragging his cape along with him. He shut the door behind him and took a deep breath before walking away, trembling.

When he met with Nastasia at the front door of the castle for their daily walk, she noticed how unsettled he was right away. "Um...Count, are you okay?"

"I'm fine…" He lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He said, raising his voice. She flinched. Count Bleck sighed and lowered his voice. "Count Bleck is fine…" Without waiting for a response, he opened the front door and stepped outside. He walked for only a few feet before Nastasia caught up with him.

The two walked together in silence for a long while before Count Bleck began to speak again, letting out a tired sigh. "Dimentio is pushing the Count to his limit, Nastasia."

The assistant frowned. "I know."

"He seems to think that just because he is upset, he can do whatever he pleases without any repercussions!"

"Well...yeah. That's Dimentio for you."

He ignored Nastasia. "Does he honestly expect special treatment, even after all of this time!? Well, he will not receive it, even if he is the Count's cousin!"

The secretary stopped. "Wait. Cousin? You two are related?"

The leader stopped as well, furrowing his brows. "Did Count Bleck never explain this to you?" He told her nearly everything, so it was hard to remember what he told her and what he hadn't at times. She shook her head.

He sighed, his anger fading. "Well...the Count was not the first person in the Tribe of Darkness to fall in love with a human. His father's brother did so first, when the Count was merely an infant. As members of the tribe, we were expected to marry within the group and keep outsiders out...so, as punishment, that man was cast out of the tribe. And then, years later, Count Bleck met Dimentio, whose father was cast out of the Tribe of Darkness for falling in love with a human woman. That is too rare of an occurrence for it to be a mere coincidence…"

"Oh," Nastasia said. "D-Do you ever talk about it? You know...the fact that you're related?"

Count Bleck shook his head. "What is there to say?" He may have known the truth, but Dimentio's father had taken on a different last name, so he wasn't sure if his minion knew or not. Either way, he saw no point in mentioning it.

She nodded. With that, the rest of their walk was silent. On the way back, they began discussing the same subjects as always: the Void, the Dark Prognosticus, and the end of all worlds. However, at that point, Count Bleck was only half-listening. After all, he'd had similar discussions with Nastasia in the past; he didn't think this one would be much different than the others.

Instead, Count Bleck thought back to what he told Dimentio in his room: "As for the Nightshade family, Count Bleck is no longer a part of them. He has no family."

The man frowned, knowing that he had told a lie. Of course, Count Bleck was no longer a part of his birth family; he had left them the moment he thought of running away with her. But after destroying the Tribe of Darkness, he had not planned on finding another one. He expected to spend the rest of his life alone, as cold and silent as the halls of Castle Bleck.

Then he met a loyal bat, who would not leave his side, even after all he had done. He considered her family. Same with a certain warrior and a young shapeshifter. He even felt that way towards the man in green, even if he was gone now. And since they were cousins, Dimentio was family too, whether the Count liked it or not. He told everyone that he let him stay because of that vague quote in the Dark Prognosticus about 'the man in the mask', but sometimes, he doubted if that really mattered at all.

Count Bleck peered at the castle and saw Dimentio, watching them through a window from above. The jester noticed him staring too, because he smiled and waved. The leader sighed and lowered his hat. He would not let anyone see his inner turmoil, nor the pain and remorse in his heart.


A/N: Proof that I didn't hate everything in the old chapters. Some of these scenes are from the old version of Chapter 15. Also, Blue's family was thought of around the old version of Chapter 17. Still, I made it better, like I said I would.

This chapter was a challenge to put together, but at least I can finally stop thinking about it. Anyway, I'm tired, so I'll just leave you with a sneak peek of what's to come and call it good.

Next time: Underwhere stuff. Bros reuniting. Luvbi. Yay.

-Free